here's to our attempt at living next to death

But that’s the wonderful thing about foreign travel, suddenly you are five years old again. You can’t read anything, you have only the most basic sense of how things work, you can’t even reliably cross the street without endangering your life. Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses.
Bill Bryson, Neither Here Nor There: Travels in Europe (via mymangotree)

(Source : dopefreshtunes)

i can do this all night. eat fruits and drink water and listen to melodic dubstep and liquid dub-n-bass late into the night. we can do this all night

the latter half ||

o8.21 || it was a day of salt-water, sweet margaritas. riding along the beach with the sun painting my skin a deeper color of gold. later that night, we relaxed on a hammock in the middle of a plaza that looked like a forest. she talked about life back home and he talked about how lonely he is, in so many words. i listened. thought about him. wished i was alone. that night i left with a horrible stomach ache. the next morning, i woke up soar and flushed out. i want to go to the beach again. next week. tomorrow. right now. in this moment.

o8.22 || after work we met up in the parking lot of the mall. we went out to eat with a friend. drank more sweet drinks. talked about future plans. basketball games. work. people who treat friendships as if they were competitions. we talked about a lot. after, the two of us drove up to a dirt road that leads to a forest, overlooks the city. she said, “the city’s alive” as we stared ahead like locals to foreigners. we talked about each other, others, the strangers that were around us. parked in cars like silhouettes. i danced around every time i saw a shooting star. i like how she makes me feel as though we’re growing together, encouraging each other, benefiting one another in some way. there are two, three people that have made me feel that way- made me feel like i’m actually gaining something from being around them. i’m not sure, but i think she’s beginning to become one of them.

o8.23 || i got into an argument with my parents. when i came home from work, my mother was in the kitchen cooking something for my dad. it was just us two. when i came down after changing, as she requested, she talked to me about myself, morals, misguidance, etc. she told me about my progress, but also about my tendency to digress. i agree. i didn’t agree with her at that moment, but i agree.

o8.24 || i like the way my body feels when i drink a lot of water. when i eat a lot of fruits and when i exert myself willingly. lately, i’ve had this strange desire to be natural. submerged in nature. i went to work bare today. someone told me i look different. like something’s “missing,” he said. I told him how my face was naked and he “oh’d” as if he found the answer to life. and he looked so intrigued i felt like a showcase at a museum. another person told me, “there’s something different about you today. I like it.” i’m carrying myself like i’m gold. people notice things like that, you know. o8.24 || he keeps pulling himself toward me; asks why we can’t just be friends after having me deny his request to visit him last night. just hang out, he says. go do stuff. have a good time. i think the only person i’m ready for is myself, and even that’s a bit questionable.

o8.22.14 || i saw four, five shooting stars tonight. my goal this summer was to see five; before tonight, i only saw one, two. i wanted to be in different locations for each shooting star, but that’s ok. i’m happy i reached my goal. shooting stars are striking. i love them. that is all. goodnight

you don’t laugh much when he’s around because you’re afraid he’s going to fall a little bit more in love with you,

I think it’s my personal mother nature talking ||

I mean, I went to work today and these boys were both discreet and conspicuous. One blurted to me about how he’s leaving the place. We talked about eating food, his future, and he asked for my number. Pulled out his phone. Said, “Here” as he handed it to me. He stayed after for almost an hour to talk to me. “Because you said I should keep you company,” he explained after someone asked why he was still there. || The other one is such a sad soul. I told him I don’t like looking people in the eyes because it tells too much about them. And I told him in so many words that he was just so, so undeniably sad. His eyes always look like they’re afraid to give away too much. They’re dark and they pierce and I don’t think he does it intentionally and though I’m so attracted to him, “I don’t do well with sad people,” I told him. Because I’ve been there before, and I realize sad shouldn’t rely on others to un-sadden itself. Particularly because that’s not what I’m here for. And I’ll probably inadvertently make him more sad if I endeavor to take him serious. And that’s not what I’m here for, either—bringing out the sadness in people. I’m not fond of that. || The last one, he approached me for a moment toward the ending of the night. Said, “I need a little bit more attention from you,” as I asked him to repeat what he just said. “Even if it’s bad attention,” he said after I explained to him that I give a lot of different people attention, but it’s all the same, and it’s all obnoxious, rude attention because that’s how I feel most comfortable communicating and bonding with people. He said, “That’s fine, even if you’re rude, doing something nice for me, I just kind of want your attention.”

And, so I guess these boys think I’m here for them. Instead of work. They come up to me and talk these things and they watch me talking to others and suddenly they want me for themselves when they know I’m only for myself right now. I thought what I was doing was shutting every one out, but I think that just makes them drawn to me more. And I guess no matter what I do, shut out or let in, I will not be fully left alone.

so it’s 02:45 AM

and I just spent the past three-ish hrs writing, cutting up, piecing together, and re-editing this piece I’m working on to submit into a contest for artists about body image. it’s a prose piece, a little less than a thousand words, and idk how i linked all the things that i did togther but i did and i surprisingly kinda like the so-far finished product. i know i still have a lot to do. i just hope that in the process of editing i don’t begin to totally hate it and decide to never submit it

Made In Heights :: Pirouette

(35 lectures)

(Source : ysabelledurant)


I want to have a party where we drink lots of wine, eat some cheeses, crackers, meats and listen to some Miguel.

Dpat [Above Us feat. Sango and Isles]

(61 lectures)

the fact that the universe is so big is great. there’s so much life and space and existence for us to explore. things might be bad now but think about the universe. taking pictures in caves on the moon. chillen nearby one of saturn’s rings drinking wine. watching space junk float by

we’re sad now but the stars can’t wait for the day we make love on them. we should be excited, too

notes to me her and him ::

i. it’s ok to be hurting. it’s ok to hurt and it’s ok to feel a little bit melted, broken. a conundrum; a missing piece of a never-ending puzzle. it’s ok. because people hurt, and warmth melts things. and if something is broken, it can be fixed just as well. and hurt is sometimes the thing that moves us forward. and you’ll know when that’s what the hurt is there for- to move you forward. take it, stick the hurt inside of you further, and move forward.

ii. tell me what it feels like to be in love. you seem so comfortable, open, ardent* saying it. and i admire that. do you feel any different? when you go to bed at night, do you feel butterfly wings fluttering beneath your eyelids. do stars try to fall from your irises and can you feel dandelion seeds floating through your veins? i only imagine about the days that i wake up with the sun in my chest; it must be nice. and i know i’m speaking in writer-words but, still, it must be nice.

iii. and, baby-girl, you’re ok. even if you’re not ok, you will get ok. or at least better. maybe not quite “ok,” but at least better. and better is better than what you are now, which is hurting (though that isn’t bad at all). it’s just about progress. and, yes, the hurt will become a part of you. but it’ll become a part of you in the way a tree trunk forms around a giant rock. it becomes a part of you, and it’s there, but no one neglects the beauty of the tree just because a rock has formed into the tree. it’s all nature. it’s all beauty. it’s all there and it’s all still potent and living. you’ll be ok.

I was by myself for a pretty long time. I needed to do that. I think everyone that I know has wanted to do that or needed to do that at some point. I think when you spend enough time when it’s quiet around you and you don’t open your mouth for three or four days, there’s parts of your brain that can kind of rest. I think when we’re out in the world and we have to talk to people, we edit ourselves. You know, we have to like, act a little bit. As honest as we may be as humans, when we’re out here, we’re all kind of wearing mirrors on our faces. You know, constantly reacting to how to react to the people around you. And I think when you’re alone for a long enough time, you can feel a lot more peace.
-Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, in an interview speaking about living in his father’s cabin for three months when writing ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’ 
(via coldaslt)