one-bulletleft reblogged
ANTI-CAPITALIST AFFIRMATIONS
- i am allowed to spend my time creating things, even if they are not beautiful.
- there is no such thing as a "real job." all forms of work are real and valid.
- there is nothing that i need to accomplish to be worthy. i am already worthy.
- doing nothing is good for my soul.
- i am not defined by what i produce.
- my worth cannot be measured by my paycheck, my job title, or a list of professional or academic achievements.
- i do not need to monetize my hobbies, it is enough to spend time doing something i love.
- i will not let society decide what success looks like. i can define what successful life looks like for me.
25
Aquí me tienes
Queriéndote a gritos
A mí que me gusta hacerlo en silencio
Es cómo si el te quiero se escapara de mis labios
Y para cuando lo quiero atrapar
Ya se ha refugiado en tu boca
Dejándome sin otra alternativa que irlo a buscar
Se rebela mi piel
Va en búsqueda de la tuya
Reclamando la ausencia
Consolandose solo al sentir tus manos otra vez
Parece que llevo tu nombre tatuado en el pecho
Ahí donde solo tú lo puedes ver
Y aunque de día lo guardo celosamente
Al caer la noche
Se libera en mis sueños
Voy a aprenderme el tono de tus suspiros
Tal vez entonces no sienta la necesidad
De replicarlos tan seguido
Igual y así te pienso un poco menos
O quizá así pueda disimular
Siempre siento que en el espacio entre tú y yo, aquel en donde no estamos juntas, dejo palabras en el aire. Ese pequeño espacio cargado de quizás y algún días, me pregunto si lo sentirás también. A veces me canso de guardar palabras en la garganta, no quieres escucharlas y no serviría de nada decirlas. Hoy en cambio me conforta la familiaridad de aquello que sabemos y nunca decimos, hoy es suficiente, mañana no se.
We saw a shooting star and I wished to love you a little less.
I wouldn't die for you, I find said task quite easy. I'd do the opposite, I would wake up every morning despite the broken dreams and hopeless days, I'd endure the decay if it meant I get to come home to you. I would learn to live just so i could do it with you.
one-bulletleft reblogged
Between the banks of pain and pleasure the river of life flows. It is only when the mind refuses to flow with life, and gets stuck at the banks, that it becomes a problem.
— Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj
one-bulletleft reblogged
a little reminder! by annalaura_art
one-bulletleft reblogged
Dearest Flowers
I like coming home back to you
For it feels like bees buzzing
Over the flowers of my childhood;
Drawing the butterflies of my garden
And chasing the sunlight as it recedes
Into the mountains, wherefrom
The sun peeks at me from a valley;
It feels the same way as when you
Scrunch your nose and smile at me
Like cities on a Christmas night.
I like finding you on the couch,
While Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol
Runs drily on the dreary television.
When I come home late from work,
I like to kiss your eyes and ears and
Make you a sundae from old ice cream
In the refrigerator, while you sleep soundly.
I'd like to do this like a ritual and
Sing my soul out to you on my death bed
Till the last time I breathe and
The last time I see the world in a blur
With your eyes watching me pass.
~ Cole E. Whittaker
Tags under the cut
We share the same birthday and you smile warm like the sun you feel like a ray of sunshine and I'm just glad i can still feel those
Nada es eterno
Las heridas sanan
Las buenas memorias se desbaratan
Y se repite de nuevo
God do i feel like crying
Sometimes just occasionally
When the wind is too cool
And when the city is too loud
At times when the sky is lacking stars
Or when i feel like i no longer remember her laugh
Maybe is just residual sadness
Or perhaps i do have a broken heart
one-bulletleft reblogged
Ig: @tuvozenaerosol
one-bulletleft reblogged
“I am too soft and I hate myself for that.”
— Unknown
But what if true art is only possible within the realm of insanity
one-bulletleft reblogged
february arrives like a train and runs over the bones of January, and just like that- the death of a new year.
-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned