Twenty Six Scribbles

I have always wanted to be a poem, but they told me that the closest I can get is poet, so I am trying to become one of those instead. You are looking at my best attempt.

September 29, 2014 11:22 pm
"Like a magpie, I am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales, dead languages, weird folk beliefs, fascinating religions, and more."

Laini Taylor, Lips Touch: Three Times (via avvfvl)

(Source: moriartysdance, via amaneciera)

September 27, 2014 3:09 pm
"I gave you a second chance.
I ran back into a burning house
to save the things I loved."

Beau Taplin || H o u s e   O n    F i r e (via afadthatlastsforever)
3:08 pm
"I felt like destroying something beautiful."

Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club (via wordsnquotes)

(via wordsnquotes)

3:08 pm
"Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away."

F. Scott FitzgeraldThe Great Gatsby (via feellng)
3:07 pm
"Autumn finally arrived. And when it did, I came to a decision. Something had to give: I couldn’t keep on living like this."

Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun (via quotes-shape-us)
3:06 pm
"Some friends don’t understand this. They don’t understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you’re wonderful just the way you are. They don’t understand that I can’t remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about If you loved me you would."

Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation (via larmoyante)
September 24, 2014 11:53 am

I have been told that when a loved one dies
the worst part is not the shock, or the blood,
or how grief colors all the places your hands touch.
The worst part is when the world heals you too well.
Years later, when you begin to forget their face
and their voice becomes a song
you do not remember the tune for.
After the burial, when the body just a fact.
A memory only confronted when prepared.

I do not have this problem of forgetting.
I remember your face exactly. Your voice is right here,
coloring my voice. Nothing is helping me
to forget your hands,
how they shook like apologizing mountains
hollowed in their wisdom.
I do not know about the part
where you cannot remember grief.
Grief comes for me every morning,
dragging your last breaths behind him
like screaming children.

This aphorism seems a privilege
of bad memory. The brain does this.
It hides the worst. It is the reason we look at scars
and say All I remember was the screaming.
Then everything went black. When I woke up
the worst of it was over.

September 22, 2014 2:50 am
"You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I."

 E.E. Cummings, You are Tired (I Think)

(via wordsnquotes)

2:50 am
"I didn’t realize it, but the days came along one after another, and then two years were gone, and everything was gone, and I was gone."

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Babylon Revisted (via teenager90s)
12:49 am
"Writing is…. being able to take something whole and fiercely alive that exists inside you in some unknowable combination of thought, feeling, physicality, and spirit, and to then store it like a genie in tense, tiny black symbols on a calm white page. If the wrong reader comes across the words, they will remain just words. But for the right readers, your vision blooms off the page and is absorbed into their minds like smoke, where it will re-form, whole and alive, fully adapted to its new environment."

Mary Gaitskill (via observando)

(via aseriesofnouns)