âand I saw you, alone, dreaming. I watched a smile rise and colour you with sunsetâŚâ
â Saadi Youssef, from âThe Ends of the African Northâ, Without an Alphabet, Without a Face: Selected Poems (trans. Khaled Mattawa)
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@low-replies
âand I saw you, alone, dreaming. I watched a smile rise and colour you with sunsetâŚâ
â Saadi Youssef, from âThe Ends of the African Northâ, Without an Alphabet, Without a Face: Selected Poems (trans. Khaled Mattawa)

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lay out intentions like paving of ease in future moments. âiâm gonna have fun in class tomorrowâ, âwhen i go for a walk iâm gonna see so many beautiful thingsâ, âiâm gonna have the most cozy night tonightâ, âiâm gonna be very present with my friend on wednesdayâ, etc. see how easily the moment adapts. itâs like a little spell to set yourself up for goodness
âOnce, I saw a bee drown in honey, and I understood.â
â Nikos Kazantzakis, Report to Greco (via books-n-quotes)
âAs for myself, I had a lot to say. But I was silent.â
â Albert Camus, from Youthful Writings; âIntuitions,â wr. c. 1932

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Grow privately
Women and art go hand in hand
The Silence Of The Lambs Directed by Jonathan Demme (1991)
âA Guide to Being a 17 year old: First, you have to be indecisive. And I mean, REALLY indecisive. Think of it as trying to pick a flavor of ice cream, except your decision will determine what kind of ice cream you eat for the rest of your life, and some of the flavors could possibly kill you. You also have to be moody. And I mean, REALLY moody. But I donât mean occasionally crabby. I mean some days you donât want to get out of bed because the world will seem like the flattest goddamn bottle of champagne out there, and other days you will be that bottle. Once in awhile youâll get these crazy urges, probably while youâre trying to sleep, and youâll feel like cleaning your entire house or being the next great contemporary poet. Chances are you will remain in bed and proceed to get anxious about everything you could be doing. Thatâs another thing. You have to worry a lot. And I mean, REALLY worry. Itâll feel like you have an internal bees nest and just when things have settled down, the one kid from down the block you canât get rid of bombards it with his slingshot. Most of the time you donât even know what the hell youâre worried about. You just worry. But enough about your weird habits. Youâll figure those out eventually. The real kicker comes when you decide to venture into the unknown abyss of love. Yes, you will love. And I mean, REALLY love. But not right away. Youâll meet a girl, probably over social media because youâre too afraid to actually talk to her in person. Sheâs gonna intrigue you. This is how it goes. Youâre going to try so hard to impress her with your witty, flirtatious phrases and eloquent words. Spoiler: it works. But donât get too excited. Youâll start to think wow! I really like this person, but I donât know if weâre ACTUALLY compatible because we completely bypassed the friend stage, the basis of all successful relationships. Actually, scratch that last part. You wonât realize that until afterwards. Anyways. Youâll date for awhile. Youâll see a few movies. Youâll start to think about her lips on your jaw and the electricity pulsing through your nerve endings when her hand rests on your arm. Youâll call it love, for the sake of labels. Then, when youâre way too invested to have any hope of a happy ending, things will go bad. And I mean, REALLY bad. Youâll start to constantly question yourself when she doesnât look at you the same way. Youâll try to change yourself because your whole life youâve never known anything different. Youâll break up. A jagged split thatâs anything but symmetrical. Pieces of you will be left on the other side. You tell yourself youâll learn from it; youâll become a better person. But the worst is not the break. The worst is having to keep yourself company afterwards. You are a recently finished party where no one was quite interested enough to stay. You sit alone in the big hollow house that is yourself. Youâll crave attention. The kind that comes with temporary longing and permanent regret. You are once again the flat champagne bottle, hanging on the rack as people talk about what you once were. But you wonât change. You wonât do a damn thing about it. Because this is whatâs comfortable to you. Being stuck in a boat thatâs constantly taking on water but never enough to sink. You will not be the motor that propels you to shore. But just when it looks like youâre about to go down, someone will save you. Someone unexpected. She will come like the calm sea breeze rolling in on a Tuesday afternoon. You are tentative. Your heart is like the Christmas gift youâd rather keep yourself than give to someone else. But she will take it. It wonât be like before. Your walls will be violently torn down, and youâll realize the human body is a work of art no prodigy could capture. Youâll no longer wonder about the future; youâll long for it. You canât wait for the moments when you can wipe that little bit of toothpaste from the corner of her mouth or ask what you can make her for dinner. Yes, you will want to make her dinner. And while you still donât know what flavor of ice cream you want and you still havenât figured out what youâre worrying about and that flat champagne bottle still hangs from the depths of your mind, everything will feel okay. The swinging pendulum that is your delicate life will settle into an unfamiliar but pleasant rhythm for as long as it can. But thereâs one last thing you should hear⌠Good luck.â
â Submitted by @human-sound (via infp-quotes)
Written by low-replies
âYouâre an atheistâs nightmare; all I ever did was believe in you.â
â

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God is not a man. She is a woman washing her face in my bathroom sink
âMy grandmother told me to start going to church âYou have to believe in somethingâ she said. I believe in the creaks your floorboards make when I slip out of your room, the soft light that comes through the window. I believe in the slow-rolling fog on cold mornings, the washboard roads and stop sign glances. I believe in âgoodbyeâ and âsee you soonâ, if thereâs a difference. I sit on the porch instead of a pew, talk to myself instead of God. I have faith in the unexplained. My Sunday sermon is not played on an organ, but with fingers tapping on the steering wheel. The backseat is a confessional, words are uttered between precise movements. I pray to live, not exist. My sins are covered in sweat and gasps for air. There is no one to forgive but myself.â
â ZN
in a threesome with anxiety and depression
And boy am I getting fucked hard
i cant wait to love the fuck out of somebody and not look stupid

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in a threesome with anxiety and depression
Kids are interesting. Iâm babysitting a 9 year old boy right now whoâs homework is to write a fictional story and he wrote about how in millions of years the sun will expand killing everything and one man fell asleep at the beach and missed all the official announcements about the world ending but he managed to be the only survivor of the solar flares because he applied SPF 100 sunscreen.