Aug. 30, 2011 at 5:29pm with 1 note
Reblogged from granolapath
WORD, girl.
sometimes i forget…when i’m lonely and afraid…i need to go inside and remember…its not about me…
Aug. 10, 2011 at 8:23am with 639 notes
Reblogged from seasonbyseason
“
The capacity to be alone is the capacity to love. It may look paradoxical to you, but it is not. It is an existential truth: only those people who are capable of being alone are capable of love, of sharing, of going into the deepest core of the other person - without possessing the other, without becoming dependent on the other, without reducing the other to a thing, and without becoming addicted to the other. They allow the other absolute freedom, because they know that if the other leaves, they will be as happy as they are now. Their happiness cannot be taken by the other, because it is not given by the other.
Jun. 27, 2011 at 12:54pm with 441 notes
Reblogged from antelucan
“
You’re already home if you feel loved.
“
The love I will always desire is the kind that makes imagination look boring.
today, happiness is
- A mug of steaming hot chai with a splash of soy in a mug.
- Playing music and writing sad, sad songs.
- Writing letters to special someones.
- My flannel robe and warm socks.
- My mind-ridden pages found in a multitude of leather bound journals.
- The deeper understanding of a relationship with Jesus.
- Being warm amidst the blistering cold.
- The open road with no agenda, but to get there and be there.
- A full tank of gas.
- An agenda-less sunny afternoon.
- Trips to the grocery store.
- The sweet aroma of cooking in the kitchen.
- Picking flowers.
- Taking friends and family out for a meal.
- A full glass of pinot.
- Reading by candlelight.
- A paycheck.
- Yahtzee with family, though they will alway win.
- A made bed.
- A profound, out of the ordinary film.
Dec. 9, 2010 at 1:49pm
Reblogged from dailylitemilydickinson
Poems by Emily Dickinson (183 of 447)
X.
A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld, —
The lady dare not lift her veil
For fear it be dispelled.
But peers beyond her mesh,
And wishes, and denies, —
Lest interview annul a want
That image satisfies.
Rarely, I am drawn by a magical beauty from another soul. And often I am cloaked with a preconceived tomorrow from a magnified history, disguised as a pretty veil. These two instances bump shoulders constantly fending for my attention. Grabbing for my flesh, missing my truest of trues.
Wishes and denies. Wants and despise. Prays yet strays. Reveals yet conceals.
Dearest Emily, we would have gotten along.
