I am one of the lucky few who is blessed to have a way with words. A carefree manner to deal with the beauty they bestow upon our tongues; upon my tongue. I’m a young, free-spirited individual. One who merely understands the way letters come together and can affect one so viciously. People misinterpret my intentions, and it may cause a negative perception and may even stir up mixed emotions. But that’s where words come in. They roll, seducing flicks rendering flaunt to our desires. Words crash upon our chest and arms and tower over our fragile bodies, engrave sentiments solely for our sake and then… they die. Words die. Crumpled up little balls of paper, thrown into disposables; trash bins. There are words, however, who are hurdled through recycling bins, to be played as pure forms and truth. No one understands the importance we must hold towards the power and meaning of words. Jumbled up, true, wild, foreign, lustful, hurtful- they feel as you do, they turn as our backs do, stand as we sit and fly as we sink. Words are a part of us; a part of you. These said words, are a part of me.
I’m young but I want to be older. I’m independent but I depend on others. I’m insecure but I flaunt my features. I’m a writer but I’m not famous. I’m a thinker but I’m scared to speak. I’m afraid but I hold my chin up high. They say I’m human but… I don’t want to die.
This is how you lose her.
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget.
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her.
Junot Diaz, This is How You Lose Her (via golden-notes)
Please know that if you date me, I am a very touchy person. I will like to pet your head and hold your hand, rub your shoulders or hug you a lot. Simply put, to physically feel you in some way is very comforting to me and I can’t really apologize for it, it just feels natural to me and makes me happy.
"little talks" by typical treatment. (via typicaltreatment)
lntroductions.tumblr.com (via lntroductions)
1. People say that when you love someone you see stars when you kiss them, but stars burn out and leave a bad taste in your mouth and holes in the sky where light used to be.
2. When I was 9 I broke my arm and I was convinced that I heard the bone shatter and I started screaming and crying and I had to spend 6 hours in the hospital. I saw the x-Ray, there were cracks under my skin, I don’t want another 6 hours in the hospital and cracks in every bone in my body when you say goodbye
3. My sister fell in love with the boy who lived down the street, the one with dark hair that always fell into his eyes, who spoke in twisted poetry and kissed her like she was all he would ever need, when he told her that he met someone else she stopped eating and only wore long sleeves no matter how hot it was outside, she didn’t smile and she stopped writing poetry after that.
4. I know that when I meet a boy who makes my stomach flutter I’ll want to take him up to my roof and make him count the stars with me the way I do when I’m sad and I’ll want him to hold my hand while we cross the bridge next to the library that makes me feel less alone and I know that once it’s over, I won’t be able to go up to the roof without hoping I fall off and I won’t be able to set foot on that bridge without swallowing him whole.
5. When my dad ran away with the pretty blonde woman he met in Vegas who smelled like smoke and spoke through cheap red lipstick I swear my mother’s heart stopped, I don’t think it’s ever going to start again. I don’t want my heart to die before I do.
6. I don’t want his voice stuck in my head or his touch lingering on my skin, I don’t want his smell soaking through my bedsheets or the way he tastes drilling cavities in my teeth. I don’t want to have to forget. I don’t want to have to miss him. I don’t want my chest to hurt more than it already does.
7. I never really liked butterflies anyway, I always thought ladybugs were a lot nicer.
8. I don’t want to have to stop smoking so many cigarettes because he worries about the way I breathe while I sleep. I don’t want to stop hurting myself because he hates finding blood on the inside of my sleeves. I don’t want to have to fix myself for anyone because I don’t think I can.
9. I hate the way I know I’ll shake when he kisses someone else or lets his phone go to voicemail when I call.
10. I don’t want to meet his mother. I don’t want to wear a nice skirt or make small talk. I don’t want to be torn apart under a microscope. I don’t want to hear her whisper to you about how messy my hair is. I don’t want to watch her cry because she always thought you’d end up with a good girl.
11. I never finish books. I hate endings. I don’t know how to say goodbye. The words get caught in my throat and choke me. I think trying to let would kill me.
1. Sleep naked. If it’s warm outside, open the windows and draw the curtains. You’ll wake up with beams of sunrise on your skin, under cool sheets.
2. Play soccer barefoot. You will feel more free and happy while you savor the moment. Everyone is more arrogant in shoes.
3. Dance to your favorite music.
4. Wear a flower in your hair—or a flower tiara.
5. Do naked yoga.
6. Dance in the rain without fear of getting your feet, hair, clothes or anything else wet.
7. Make yourself a really healthy but yummy dessert, like plain yogurt with fruit, honey and almonds.