You closed your eyes. That was the difference. Sometimes you cannot believe what you see, you have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever going to have other people trust you, you must feel that you can trust them, too — even when you’re in the dark. Even when you’re falling.

“Tuesdays with Morrie” by Mitch Albom (via le-coeur-retreci)

(via ikilledalaska)

Hi. Been very busy fucking up. So yeah. Hi.

Hi. Been very busy fucking up. So yeah. Hi.


Taste stuck in the middle 
Savoring torture lingers 
Dancing with slight sharpness 
Flinched and flickered 
A bond in melting composition 
Why not drown to end the misery 
of hanging on?

I’m so gay.

I’m so gay.


Hidden aggravation 
Pushed through with limitation 
I advanced with a mark of intent 
Beated by a counter of desired lament 
And I moved backwards to feel the movement 
Only to attack with intense hatred 
And still only to be extended back 
Defeated by what I lacked 

I’ve been away from Tumblr for a while and now, you’re gone. :( </3

I’ll wait, though. Because there’s nothing else anybody can do. Because there’s nothing else more worthy to spend my time with.

Best of luck on your new projects, by the way. I’ve heard from David that you’re going to work on a lot of projects later this year and next year. I hope I can be able to watch some of your plays again (because it’s been ages since I last seen one) and listen to your radio plays, too. I’ll be waiting for your books to come out, as well.

And I hope I can bump into you someday again. Please know that it was one of the very few happy days of my tenuous life. 

Do you know that feeling when you sense that there’s some sort of chance that you would connect with someone really well? You see a person and you just get this intense, weird feeling. It’s a feeling that you really can’t explain in words. You just kind of see them and you want to get to know them. But you don’t say or do anything at all. You just let the chance slip by and then they’re gone. And then that thought or feeling quietly lingers. Sometimes I wish it was easier for us to express ourselves, or just to walk up to a person and let them know, “Hey. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. It’s something I can’t really explain, but for some reason, I just have this feeling inside of me that wants to get to know you. And if I don’t, I’d probably be missing out on something great.”

I can honestly and totally relate to this right now. The feeling’s utterly sad and there’s just no way else to feel it but… sad.

(via brandonoda-deactivated20140319)

#text  #reblogs  

Reimbursed for precious energy consumed 
But not enough for such a being to resume 
His work, awaits yet to be tampered 
With greased hands he whispered 
I am clean with dirt… 
And now to be gone curt. 

Air gushed upwards 
Pressured by constrains 
Utilized by blood 
Combined within systems 
A life defined

I don’t have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It’s a depression. Everybody’s out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel’s worth, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there’s nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there’s no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that’s the way it’s supposed to be!

We know things are bad - worse than bad, they’re crazy! It’s like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don’t go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, ‘Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won’t say anything. Just leave us alone!’ Well, I’m not gonna leave you alone! I want you to get mad! I don’t want you to protest. I don’t want you to riot - I don’t want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn’t know what to tell you to write. I don’t know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you’ve got to get mad! You’ve got to say, “I’m a human being, Goddamnit! My life has value!”

So, I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now, and go to the window, open it, and stick your head out and yell:

“I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!!”

I want you to get up right now, sit up, go to your windows, open them and stick your head out and yell - ‘I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!’

Things have got to change. But first, you’ve gotta get mad… You’ve got to say, ‘I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!’. Then we’ll figure out what to do about the depression and the inflation and the oil crisis. But first get up out of your chairs, open the window, stick your head out, and yell, and say it: I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!

#Reblogs  #Text  

When nothing seems to make any sense, turn to me. Turn to me and I will make everything better. Turn to me because I will make everything better.

(via jinthehuman)

#text  #reblogs  

Imagine if everyone is wearing an invisible smile…

Mr. Dawson was an old grouch, and everyone in town knew it. He once worked in a big jaw crusher plant. Kids knew not to go into his yard to pick a delicious apple, even off the ground, because old Dawson, they said, would come after you with his ball bullet gun.

One Friday, 12-year-old Janet was going to stay all night with her friend Amy. They had to walk by Dawson’s house on the way to Amy’s house, but as they got close Janet saw him sitting on his front porch and suggested they cross over to the other side of the street. Like most of the children, she was scared of the old man because of the stories she’d heard about him.

Amy said not to worry, Mr. Dawson wouldn’t hurt anyone. Still, Janet was growing more nervous with each step closer to the old man’s house. When they got close enough, Dawson looked up with his usual frown, but when he saw it was Amy, a broad smile changed his entire face as he said, “Hello Miss Amy. I see you’ve got a little friend with you today.”
Amy smiled back and told him Janet was staying overnight and they were going to listen to music and play games. Dawson told them that sounded fun, and offered them each a fresh picked apple off his tree. They gladly accepted. Dawson had the best apples in town.

When they got out of Dawson? On earshot, Janet asked Amy, “Everyone says he’s the meanest man in town. How come he was so nice to us?”
Amy explained that when she first started walking past his house he wasn’t very friendly and she was afraid of him, but she pretended he was wearing an invisible smile and so she always smiled back at him. It took a while, but one day he half-smiled back at her.

After some more time, he started smiling real smiles and then started talking to her. Just a “hello” at first, then more. She said he always offers her an apple now, and is always very kind.  

“An invisible smile?” questioned Janet.

“Yes,” answered Amy, “my grandma told me that if I pretended I wasn’t afraid and pretended he was smiling an invisible smile at me and I smiled back at him, that sooner or later he would really smile. Grandma says smiles are contagious.”

If we remember what Amy’s grandma said, that everyone wears an invisible smile, we too will find that most people can’t resist our smile after a while.

We’re always on the go trying to accomplish so much, aren’t we? Getting groceries, cleaning the house, mowing the lawn— there’s always something. It’s so easy to get caught up in everyday life that we forget how simple it can be to bring cheer to ourselves and others. Giving a smile away takes so little effort and time, let’s make sure that we’re not the one that others have to pretend is wearing an invisible smile.

#Prose  #Reblogs  
I seek in thin air 
I gasp with closed lips 
I hear a little rhythm - 
Unaware of despair 
I go deep into the hollow 
Stinged with mystery of the known 
I shiver, high fever 
A disease in the mind, disturbing.

I believed that I wanted to be a poet, but deep down I just wanted to be a poem.

Jaime Gil de Bieda (via andreudareen)

(via desertionafterdesertion)

If there’s anything I’m truly asking from you, it’d be for you to take good care of yourself. Because I know you and you know you, too; taking real good care of yourself is the last thing you’re ever going to do. So please. Just, please.

#text  #reblogs