June 2011
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You see, your voice crackles and resonates into my ears, and transmits signals of endearment from the drums of my ears to my mind —
Then, my mind begins to envelop with my heart — creating a hearth of warmth, thrusting and synchronizing with the metric rhythm that your heart plays as well.
This all happens by simply listening to your gentle voice.
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Please remember:
Love yourself before others can love you.
You have importance within your life. Whatever it may be, you stand with some kind of fulfilling purpose, a perpetual significance that is immortal.
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My biggest fear is you waking up not feeling the same about me as the night before.
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Cherry blossoms and frost so white, Icy petals and auras so bright. Pulsating fibers that rhythmically vibe, This is where souls meet, and where hearts thrive.
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I’d rather be with someone who knew what they wanted, not with someone who was indecisive and uncertain.
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That’s the thing about growing close to someone. You open yourself up, and you ultimately have the potential to get hurt in the end.
You become vulnerable, and sometimes that isn’t always a good thing.
But in the end, the journey is what matters, not the destination.
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This is my theory on long distance love.
yebrensaye:
Take an artwork. When you look at it from far away, you see more of it. You see it as a whole. You get a bigger and greater perspective of it. Love kind of works in the same principle. When you love someone from far away, you kind of get a better understanding of them. The reason being is because all you can do is talk. You talk and talk and you begin to have a good understanding of...
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I feel rather incomplete and empty on days and nights where we don’t get the chance to exchange words to one another.
You have this vibe you pulsate within my fibers, that makes everything seem —
Okay.
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Many things in life come to a halt, And as unfortunate as it is — nothing should be at fault. Wings of time change, and things come and go, Eroded rocks fade, as these forceful waters flow. I cannot find it within myself to believe that I am growing, Each and every day— But at the same time, I feel myself rather disconsolate as I decay. It’s hard to describe, this obis feelin’ that lingers in my...
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Memories can be forgotten. Scars remind us that...
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The 7 stages of disconsolation.
Through out my own mental and emotional instability, I have been able to actually outline the stages that usually occur in moments of depressive discontentment. It’s happened so chronically, and frequently—that this isn’t something I should be proud of.
Nonplussed: The state of being puzzled; not knowing what to do at a loss—this is the first stage due to the shift in...
Every heart (piano) - BoA (from inuyasha)
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I don’t really see myself creating genuine friendships with people on tumblr, I’m always the odd one out. I mean, sure, I have met wonderful people on here.
But that’s what they’ll ever be.
Just people on the internet that I find intriguing, nothing more and nothing less.
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To know when to cut off ties, bonds, and relations you have with someone that means dearest to you?
— Because you know you’ve had enough.
To know when to hold onto something good, even when it’s difficult to hold a firm grasp because it’s something that you sincerely cherish?
— Because you don’t want to make the wrong move and lose something that you...
“You’re never too young to love, because you’re never too young to die.”
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Open caskets, and my heart resurrected, I cannot understand what has been affected, The blood-shot bullets that have infected, Every core of my body — but left undetected. You see these wounds run skin deep, and I can still feel the salt as it seeps, The sting, the pain that each bullet may bring, But know this — this is better than nothing. I’ve grown numb, and I have adapted, and this feeling is...
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silence speaks
We’re frightened to say the things Worth saying, But when it comes to articulation, There’s an impediment; delaying words that are left unspoken, unawoken, Laid dormant, and unsaid, Not even written, and not even read. And this is why words of silence, Is left dead — Because silence speaks much more, than what needs to be said.
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My words become stained by your essence, contaminated by your love, and tainted by your aura.
You occupy the spaces in my mind, the voids within my fibers, and my everything. You occupy everything.
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When someone decides to stop listening, that’s...
Communication is a 2 way process.
There are nights where my own insecurity eats from the tips of my fingers, and slowly begins to devour the fibers that make my own composure, in both emotion and mental planes that reside within me.
There are nights where my doubt and ambiguity rise to incalculable proportions, my rationality in all angles and corners distorted, and where I believe that “the light of hope” is only a...
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jonathanpham:
Acceptance | Different
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“Please don’t make false assumptions especially when you’re angry. Please don’t...”
– Norvassey (via princevalenz)
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Want you - Lloyd (acoustic cover)
I got...
missjesc:
If the circumstances were different, could we have been different too?
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Some people are meant to fall in love, but are not...
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You’ll always be a “what if”, a “maybe”, a lost dream, a want desired but never attained, a thought that never fades, and someone who I simply want to be with.
But our destinies aren’t written together and you have your own agenda to attend to.
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To simply "miss" a person.
xtc-verse:
The memories are awfully bittersweet.
The sweet? — You recall all past interactions you’ve had with this person, remembering different miscellanea of different memorabilia that you can take within and resurface into the depths of contemplation. Because you peruse and reminisce in complete nostalgia; and you with hold so much heart-felt moments that mean precious to you, something you...
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I am sorry if I don’t have the place nor authority to feel such feelings and say such words. I sincerely apologize, but do not take these words the wrong way. The past is written in stone, and I cannot change what has already taken it’s place within the flows of time, planes of reality, and position within the universe.
But again, I am sorry — and these words are not synonmous...
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Weak hearts, and fragile bones tremble
Pieces of my soul
These fragments disassemble
I can feel myself slowly becoming a ghost,
Losing myself,
In eradicating decay,
And as times goes on,
I fail to see the light of day.
But I must remember,
That in darkest of hours,
In gruesome of night —
There will always be
A hope of light.
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I want to spread my wings and fly free,
To taste salvation.
To escape these grips
Of incessant disonsolation.
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I want to belong somewhere.
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The meaning of life is to give life meaning.
You paint your own canvas, sculpt your own clay, compose your own music, and write your own story with the pen in hand.
To “find” meaning in your life is frivolous.
You create that meaning.
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I want to be that lingering thought you think of right before you close your eyes and dream at night.
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I love you.
I want those three special words to be eternally engraved upon your mind, just in case you audaciously dare to think otherwise in the future.
Even if I unintentionally say things to you, that may penetrate the enfolds of your heart, leaving cuts, bruises and wounds — I want you to know that those actions and words are simply misplaced, because I do not mean it.
I care about...
“What you do for yourself, dies with you. What you do for others remains...”
You can't say music without saying Muse.
johnyr:
Time After Time | Kind Ink
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I question the purpose of my own existence too often, and when I don’t find some kind of credible answer to the hindering interrogative, I then make myself believe my presence is frivolous.
But then again, I suppose that everyone is enormously insignificant to some extent.
I’m too young to feel like such a waste of space, occupying a proximity upon this Earth, but I simply do. And...
