one of the main reasons I’ve put off reading the fault in our stars, despite john green being one of my favorite authors, is because of the memory of my niece. I love john green, but I know how his words have a way of pulling at your heart strings. Putting that fact together with how I feel about niece, I knew it’d be no easy read but here I go now.

He Just Does Not Love You

1112pm:

Where there is a will,
there is a way.
And where there is none,
there will be an excuse.

(That’s the risk you have to take)
if you never hear from them again,
you never hear from them again.

therefined:

“Because sending a letter is the next best thing to showing up personally at someone’s door. Ink from your pen touches the stationary, your fingers touch the paper, your saliva seals the envelope, your scent graces the paper. Something tangible from your world travels through machines and hands, and deposits itself in another’s mailbox; their world. Your letter is then carried inside as an invited guest. The paper that was sitting on your desk, now sits on another’s. The recipient handles the paper that you handled. Letters create a connection that modern and impersonal forms of communication will never replace.”

This.

therefined:

“Because sending a letter is the next best thing to showing up personally at someone’s door. Ink from your pen touches the stationary, your fingers touch the paper, your saliva seals the envelope, your scent graces the paper. Something tangible from your world travels through machines and hands, and deposits itself in another’s mailbox; their world. Your letter is then carried inside as an invited guest. The paper that was sitting on your desk, now sits on another’s. The recipient handles the paper that you handled. Letters create a connection that modern and impersonal forms of communication will never replace.”

This.

(via softletters)

The more texts I type out to you and never send, the less I remember about your voice. The less I remember about your voice, the more I realize there are entire things I have yet to say to you. Like how ferris wheels make my whole stomach laugh and my knees ache for ground. Like how Las Vegas is the city my father fell in love the second time, except this time with the queen on the back of a playing card and not the one waiting for him at home. Like how I am dozens of lifetimes away from forgetting but always seconds away from forgiving. Like how I miss you. Like how I don’t. Like I how I lie sometimes.

You are a bowl of cherries in the lap of a schoolboy. You are the reddest juice leaking from between his teeth afterwards. You are the moments he stares at himself in the mirror and mistakes it all for blood. You are the second his mother sees him run by in the hallway and mistake her baby boy for a murderer or the murdered. We are all making guesses we know are wrong. We are all always throwing our lives into cages of hurting, even when they are not built for us. You are the way we never stop. You are the way I never seem to stop.

Tonight, I am tripping on flat surfaces and learning to become faceless. I am watching the corners for shadows other than my own. I am crossing my fingers for a day when erasing your name from the margin of my notebook means I will never be able to scribble it back in again. I am waiting for the day when I can walk past a row of cages and not feel as though these arms need bending into them. Tonight, I pull out my phone and it waters my eyes with its glow in this dark and through the blur I type, “Fuck you. Come back. Fuck you.”

Texts Better Left Unsent | Ramna Safeer (via inkywings)

Will you always come home with me and tell me about your day? Tell me about the guy at work who talked too much, the stain you got on your shirt at lunch. Tell me about a funny thought you had when you were waking up and forgotten about. Tell me how crazy everyone is and we can laugh about it. Maybe, if you get home late and I’m already asleep, just whisper in my ear one little thought you had today, ‘cause I love the way you look at the world. I’m so happy I get to be next to you and look at the world through your eyes.

July 19, 2014

6:30am

I’ve been awake since 4 and I’m still tired, but there are so many words to read, pictures to see, things to remember, and things to wonder about. It’s funny, in a completely un-comedic way, how my head is never quiet when it should be, but it never fails to fall mute when I’m trying to find the right words to say. Sunsets and sunrises will forever be moments I stop to watch. The curtains in this room are cracked open just enough to let the sun kiss my skin good morning. I’ve been thinking about how people are so quick to defend, even when they’ve failed to look for the truth. I’ve been reading article after article, watching video after video about what’s going on between the Israelites and Palestinians and it makes my heart hurt. To think that so many people will never again feel how the sun never fails to remind us it loves us, to see how the sky cries when we forget. How can people be so cruel? To each other? This is but one reason as to why I’m so skeptical about religion. Almost each one tells us to be kind, forgiving and loving, yet so many of us fail to listen and do so. How can a person kill someone else and go home and sleep? I can barely stay asleep and the things I worry about or think about are so much more trivial in comparison. How can someone go home and hug a loved one with the same hands that they’ve stolen the ability for someone else to do so? I don’t understand. I don’t wish to. My heart goes out to those in Gaza. I hope their fear and pain becomes something beautiful soon. I understand that like a child pushed to the ground, they’re only pushing back to protect themselves. My heart goes out to those in Israel, I hope they realize that what they’re doing and causing is not the answer. I hope they remember what it’s like to be kicked over and over, treated like animals when their tears were testament of how human they were. Forget religion, forget who started it, but don’t forget how human we all are. I’m only a 21 year old girl, living thousands of miles away and trying to grasp that things like this still happen everyday, worldwide. That tragedies despite being far from sight, still happen and that should never be far from mind. I wish I could actually do something in terms of this. For now, I keep those affected in my thoughts. I know and want to know more about what’s happening. It’s a start right?

You are immortal; you’ve existed for billions of years in different manifestations, because you are Life, and Life cannot die. You are in the trees, the butterflies, the fish, the air, the moon, the sun. Wherever you go, you are there, waiting for yourself.

Don Miguel Ruiz (via budddha)

(via prisonofself)