Have you ever platonically fallen for someone?
For the things they say and how they can always cheer you up, no matter the circumstances?
For how you can count on them and the way they get so enthusiastic about the things they love?
Have you ever watched someone without them noticing and just felt your heart burst of love for everything they do and everything they are, feeling incredibly proud to have them as a friend?
Have you ever been in awe due to the feeling of being blessed by the sheer existence of another human being?
—  // friendship
A solo is like a meditation on the song. You find a piece of filigree and then try to play something in total empathy with everything else that’s going on.
    You can get quite spiritual about soloing. It’s almost like channeling. It’s not there one moment, but then all of a sudden it is. I’m sure anyone who’s creative has had that moment. That point where it just sparks.
—  Jimmy Page, quoted in Brad Tolinski, Light and Shade: Conversations with Jimmy Page

I feel so human,
and incapable,
and my flesh eats whatever it is in me that’s alive.

I feel invincible,
Like my blood is coffee,
And I can run
And run
And run

And I can do anything,
And I keep walking,
I keep flying!

But today, I feel so human.
And today, I struggle forward.

—  Bmfs
He would whisper “I love you”, only when she wasn’t looking.
—  BINI //He had courage to fall in love, but not to express. She knew what he wanted to say, but couldn’t reciprocate. It was so painful yet much more beautiful.
I hope you wake up one day and you’ll roll over, half asleep and reach for me only to find the empty sheets. And I hope you loose your breath and I hope you lay there now fully awake, and think “fuck why did I ever leave her.” I hope you’ll lose sleep over me the way I did over you.
—  4am

You are the moon
and you are the stars,
you’re so much more
and the sun above,

you are meant
to light my path,
you are meant
to guide me through the dark,

you are beauty
and you are grace,
you are so much more
than a pretty face,

you are bright
and you’re complete,
you are full
and what I need.

—  // you

“What is a queen without her king?”

I don’t know, but let’s ask Cleopatra, Nefertiti, Hatshepsut, Sammuramat, Victoria, Elizabeth, Amina, Tzu-hsi and the countless other kingless queens who turned mere kingdoms into the greatest of Empires.

—  Nikita Gill
Falling in love with you
was like starting a TV-series
of which you know
that there will only be one season.
Watching episode after episode,
pouring your heart into the characters,
getting drawn into the story,
despite knowing
that it will come to an end all to soon,
perhabs even with a major cliffhanger,
without any chance of a happy ending.
—  // and yet, you just cannot deny that it is worth the pain
I think there are two types of writers, the architects and the gardeners. The architects plan everything ahead of time, like an architect building a house. They know how many rooms are going to be in the house, what kind of roof they’re going to have, where the wires are going to run, what kind of plumbing there’s going to be. They have the whole thing designed and blueprinted out before they even nail the first board up. The gardeners dig a hole, drop in a seed and water it. They kind of know what seed it is, they know if planted a fantasy seed or mystery seed or whatever. But as the plant comes up and they water it, they don’t know how many branches it’s going to have, they find out as it grows. And I’m much more a gardener than an architect.
—  George R.R. Martin
For every step he took toward her, she took two steps back. Every time he thought he’d made some sort of progress, that he’d finally gotten somewhat closer to her, she slipped away again, like a shadow, like the wind, like a ray of light, simply refusing to be captured.
—  so he decided to love her from afar

Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer.

Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone.

Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.

—  Alan Watts, answering a writer’s request for advice