It hurts seeing the one who abused you laughing and joking with another girlfriend. It hurts feeling that karma never got him. It hurts to know that he would try to harm you, yet, he’s now with another girl, like nothing ever happened. Like he didn’t cause you emotional and physical abuse. Isn’t life strange?

“Oh qué será, qué será; que andan suspirando por las alcobas, que andan susurrando en versos y trovas, que andan escondiendo bajo las ropas, que anda en las cabezas y anda en las bocas; que va encendiendo velas por callejones, lo dicen en voz alta en los bodegones, gritan en el mercado, está con certeza. En la naturaleza; será, qué será; que no tiene certeza, ni nunca tendrá, lo que no tiene arreglo, ni nunca tendrá. Que no tiene tamaño…”

… es el amor.

México Gráfico.

Do not look at yourself with disgust, you are a gift to this earth. You are beautiful, you are a light, an energy, an essence. You are nature herself.

Heidi Picket (via OptimisticallyAstray)

(Don’t delete source above, thank you)

If you truly love nature, you will find beauty everywhere.
—  Vincent van Gogh
I did not want to think about people. I wanted the trees, the scents and colours, the shifting shadows of the wood, which spoke a language I understood. I wished I could simply disappear in it, live like a bird or a fox through the winter, and leave the things I had glimpsed to resolve themselves without me.
—  Patricia A. McKillip