Life Starts Now

Life Starts Now

65,549 notes


“Every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drank, the very air I breathed, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning.”
—Haruki Murakami, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle

“Every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drank, the very air I breathed, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning.”

—Haruki Murakami, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle

(Source: annimaarit, via expresswithsilence)

9,140 notes

I don’t have a fear of commitment. I have a fear of abandonment. We all screw things up. I screw things up, especially with people I love. I get needy, I get moody, I get distant, I want to be close, I get confused. I don’t understand all of it, but I keep pushing because I hope this thing, this universe, there’s no way that I’m the only person out there who wants something this bad, if I want it, someone else out there must too.
(via x-erp)

(Source: psych-facts, via summertime-dollface)

293 notes

I am deliriously in love with the thought of touching you. It’s wrong, I know, to feel so much so quickly, and that is what they tell you nowadays: that you never want to be the person who cares more, or who shows it. But I’d give a good amount of decency up if it meant I could indecently kiss your lips each night and touch your skin like it was made for my fingertips.
Kayla Kathawa (via ninakathawa)

1,552 notes

"I miss you. I do." She whispered over the phone.

"But if I spend all of my time waiting for you, whole seasons will pass without me noticing, and you may be beautiful, but you will never be more beautiful than the first snowflakes of winter or the summer light cascading through the windows."

"I could wait for an eternity if only I knew you were coming," she said, "But time is precious, and darling you are not worth the spring blossoms. You are not worth the autumn leaves."

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #38 (via blossomfully)

2,880 notes

I flip open the book in front of me and land on a picture of Peter Pan leading Wendy out her window to Neverland, which warms and breaks my heart at the same time. It reminds me of my childhood, and when I believed in shit like that. When I believed that when something goes wrong and the monsters decide to come for you, some fantastical imaginary friend from the box of VHS tapes under the tv would somehow just know that you were in trouble and would come to your rescue. It’s such a bitch when the day comes where you finally have to shed your fantasies, and no matter how long you try and put it off, you eventually and unfortunately have to grow up. Because after your teenage years start melting away, after all the beer bongs, backseats and premature broken hearts, life will inevitably start dragging you kicking and screaming headfirst into adulthood, and you have no say in the matter. There’s no rewind button, and you can only put yourself on pause for so long after the moment when you realize that your parents aren’t super heroes and that they aren’t always going to be there to fight your battles for you. There’s always going to be periods of time in life when it’s going to be just you, and that if you’re going to make it, you have to be your own hero within a reality that can be so hard to stomach. In my heart I know that nobody’s going to come rescue me from this, and that it really is all up to me. Nobody’s going to come for me in the way that I want them to. Nobody’s going to save me. So whatever, fuck it. I guess I’ll just do it myself. I’ll save me instead. But god fucking damn it, I wish he was real. I wish that I was someone’s Wendy Darling. I wish that someone braver and stronger than me would show up out of the blue and rush me off to the sky and to a place where I would be young forever. But it was in that moment, this moment, that I let the fantasies fade and accepted the reality that I’ve stumbled into, and that I will learn how to fight my monsters on my own if I have to. But if for whatever reason all our fantasies ever decide to switch places with our bitter realities, and it does actually fucking happen, if I ever break free from this rusty cage and fly, then so help me God, if you’re like me and you’re ever in trouble, expect me, because I will fucking come back for you. I promise.

I let out a melodramatic sigh and roll my eyes at myself and my constant stream of overly-analytical poetic thoughts. I stare at the picture for a few seconds, reluctantly pick up a green crayon off the table, and slowly begin adding color to the blank page.
An excerpt from Caged Boy Sings: the movie extravaganza.  Or maybe I meant to say book.  You’ll find out soon enough, but either way, it’s coming soon.  (via cagedboysings)

3,560 notes

Nothing would have changed the reality that the person you were in love with had stopped loving you somewhere along the line, whether it was in the middle of a conversation or while driving under a bridge or when they made eye contact with someone new and wonderful. It doesn’t matter. Stop wasting your time on them. You don’t need to stop your story just because they are no longer a main character. Do not take back what has already poisoned you. Instead start healing and start healing soon.

Raquel, How to stop loving someone who does not love you (via larmoyante)

ah thank you very much for liking this quote of mine!! :)

(via inkskinned)