mi lonja te saluda.

Money can buy

me: *literally about to burst into tears for no fuckass reason*

If someone punches you in the stomach,“ he says, “it’ll hurt whether you were expecting it or not. So if the person you love stops loving you back, you’re going to feel the blow even if you saw it coming.

In your place, if there is pain, nurse it, and if there is a flame, don’t snuff it out, don’t be brutal with it. Withdrawal can be a terrible thing when it keeps us awake at night, and watching others forget us sooner than we’d want to be forgotten is no better. We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of 30 and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything—what a waste!

Sí, dejamos de amar de un día para el otro. Nos enamoramos hasta que nos desenamoramos, así de redundante. Debe existir una división borrosa en la línea del tiempo que dice “antes de esta fecha te quería y luego ya no”. Pero es difícil verla. Además, no nos damos cuenta inmediatamente. El amor es un poema. Y alguien alguna vez dijo: los poemas nunca se terminan, solo se abandonan.

drop top porsche