what is there to say. i'm nothing to write home about. i am a pawn trapped in the war, the smell right before it rains. i am just passing through this place; trying to leave my mark in an unmark-able world.


Music has that power to revive memories, sometimes so intensely that they hurt.

Haruki Murakami, Yesterday (via hollowstimulation)

(Source: splitterherzen)

Nothing in the world can bother you as much as your own mind, I tell you. In fact, others seem to be bothering you, but it is not others, it is your own mind.

Sri Sri Ravi Shankar   (via hollowstimulation)

(Source: wordsthat-speak)

I become attached to people I shouldn’t. I distance myself from the people who matter. I am bad with people. I am good at being alone. But I hate being lonely.

Him: sometimes I walk into the place you used to work and look for you.
Her: why?
Him: I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realize how much I would miss you. … Or how much I loved you.
Her: but you never did anything about it.


The world will give you that once in awhile, a brief timeout; the boxing bell rings and you go to your corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up life.

Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees (via wordsnquotes)

Loving someone who cannot love you the same way in return is not weakness. It’s one of the most courageous things you’ll ever do. You are putting your armour at their feet and you are saying ‘I will not fight you in this. I have loved you and that means that I have already won.’

You should not
have to rip yourself
into pieces to keep
others whole.

i am seeing less and less of you, Emma Bleker  (via hnnhtylr)

When people stop writing, it’s one of two things – they are either really fucking happy or broken beyond repair.

Ming D. Liu (via writingquotes)

Never grow a wishbone, daughter, where your backbone ought to be.

Clementine Paddleford (via mylittlebookofquotes)