Showing posts from August, 2012
One day you fall for this boy. And he touches you with his fingers. And he burns holes in your skin with his mouth. And it hurts when you look at him. And it hurts when you don’t. And it feels like someone’s cut you open with a jagged piece of glass, and then you realized you always felt that way.
While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die.
I couldn’t look at you and breathe at the same time.
Regret for wasted time is more wasted time.
There is a crack in everything,
that’s how the light
gets in.
The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.
When we look up at the sky, we are trying to find the way back to ourselves.
Dead hearts are everywhere.
Na kraju krajeva, ojsećati - to je najbolji način putovanja.
Never blame anyone in your life. Good people give you happiness. Bad people give you experience. Worst people give you a lesson. Best people give you memories.
Butterflies can get drunk on the juice of rotten fruit.
I still love the people I’ve loved, even if I cross the street to avoid them.
If it's still in your mind, it is worth taking the risk.
Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
The body is nothing but visible soul, and the soul is nothing but invisible body.
"The things you own end up owning you."

"And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom. "

"You are not your job. You are not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fuckin' khakis. You are the all singing all dancing crap of the world"

"Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need."
Your happiness becomes her misery.
I love the word 'fail.' Failure is human destiny.
I miss you. I missed you even when I was with you. That’s been my problem. I miss what I already have, and I surround myself with things that are missing.
I’ve spent so much time in my head and in my heart that I forgot to live in my body.
So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding quite wonderfully, if only you were interested in them.
The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves.
Some people
are uncomfortable
with silences. Not me.
I’ve never cared much
for call and response.
Sometimes I will think of
something to say and then
I ask myself; is it worth it?
And it just isn’t.
Eating a pound of salt was a 'popular' way of committing suicide in ancient China.
Think of how many people have sat next to you on a bus, train, whatever. Now think how many people have sat next to you on purpose with their fingers crossed in hope that you’ll talk to them. I’m sure somebody has. There’s plenty of times when somebody’s seen you and hoped that you spoke to them, but you never did because you don’t have the guts and neither do they. Don’t go around thinking nobody likes you and that you’re not loved. There’s been plenty of times when a stranger has spotted you and thought “Oh, they’re just my type” but haven’t had the courage or confidence to open their mouth and initiate a conversation. The funny thing is - neither have you.

Beautiful names

坂本 Sakamoto (book of the hill)
美晴 Miharu (beautiful clear sky)
七帆 Nanaho (seventh sail)
久美子 Kumiko (eternal beautiful child)
弓 Yumi (archery)
歩 Ayumu (walk, deeper meaning: walk your own way)
石川 Ishikawa (stone river)
 小百合 Sayuri (small lily)
千羽 Chiba (thousand feathers)
美千子 Michiko (child of a thousand beauties)
坂本 Sakamoto (book of the hill)
明日香 Asuka (fragrance of the bright day)
七帆 Nanaho (seventh sail)
蓮實 Hasumi (lotus reality)
三千代 Michiyo (three thousand generations)
浜野 Hamano (seaside field)
Writers are forgetful,
but they remember everything.
They forget appointments and anniversaries,
but remember what you wore,
how you smelled,
on your first date...
They remember every story you’ve ever told them -
like ever,
but forget what you’ve just said.
They don’t remember to water the plants
or take out the trash,
but they don’t forget how
to make you laugh.

Writers are forgetful
they’re busy
the important things.
Illusions are to the soul what atmosphere is to the earth.
I’m tired of my life, my clothes, the things I say. I’m hacking away at the surface, as at some kind of gray ice, trying to break through to what is underneath or I am dead. I can feel the surface trembling—it seems ready to give in but it never does. I am uninterested in current events. How can I justify this? How can I explain it?
P.S. Bastard.
The castor plant (Ricinus communis, Euphorbiaceae) currently holds the Guinness World Record for most poisonous plant. 5-8 seeds is the human lethal dose.