by Laura Adel Johnson

Artwork by Nicole Rifkin. Original photo by internetfamous.

Both sides deserve love and affection and to be treated with respect. Neither men or women should have to feel as if they’re dedicating their entire life to the other without anything in return.

It is quite a scene to see a woman rest her sadness in her left hand. Cupping that chin- is her head heavy? Are her thoughts too much to bare? When God created that left hand he said, “And this is the shelf woman can rest her sadness on.” And he created a man’s strong chest and said, “This is the shelf she can rest her heavy thoughts on.” But God, my shelves gave out. One left me and now the other can’t bare the weight of my sadness. I'm guessing you know which one is which.  

- Snakes and Wild Honey // E.S. // The Things I Now Understand

When I was 10 and she was 16 we were pretty close. As close as neighbors could be. There was quite an age gap between us. She had boobs, I didn’t. She had become a woman, I was still a child. But she talked to me like I was an adult. And I liked that. She had this way of making people feel as if they were important. The summer before she left she fell in love. And it broke her. It changed her. I could tell we were drifting apart. My childish notions of life and love made me naïve and foolish. Her experience made her cynical. Things were different. I remember I was 11, she was 17 that summer. Her favorite number and now she got to be it. We were sitting on the dock by the lake and she looks at me and says, “would you rather drown or fall in love?” I thought whimsically. I thought rose petals and wedding cake and kissing. I thought diamond rings and a baby and a house to call home. “Of course I would rather fall in love. What kind of question is that?” I replied. A child. A fool. “Don’t you see Anabel?” She smiled that beautiful smile, the one that scared me a little. The one that made you believe she knew so much. The smile that made you think she was capable of anything and everything. “Don’t you see they’re the same goddamn thing?” “How?” “Because whether you’re drowning or falling in love, you can’t fucking breathe.”

— Henry Miller (via thelovejournals)

— Jiddu Krishnamurti

by Lonac

by Rosario Oddo