{ordinary life}Belle & Sebastian - Get Me Away from Here, I'm Dying with 32 plays.
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Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying
Belle And Sebastian (via snarkasticmoviegeek)
"It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it."
— Oriah Mountain Dreamer (via atomos)
"Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets."
Ron Pope - A Drop In The Ocean with 40 plays.
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A Drop In The Ocean
Ron Pope (via anasurprises)
The worst start to anything, but still. A start.
Driving to Fitzroy through North Richmond has always been the strangest exercise. The traffic there is crazy - Victoria Street at any time of night, let alone a Friday. People were out in lots despite the cold — and it has been cold, compared to the thirty degree heat of the previous days. I picture it and just want to stay in bed.
Recently I made a decision, the consequences of which I am currently trying to process. I think I lost a lot of people’s respect on this day - possibly a little of my own for being so weak. Too weak to save someone some serious grief, one could argue. Too weak to distinguish my own wants and needs from someone else’s superimposed, like always.
Possibly too weak to love someone and walk away because (at the end of the day) I know life gets in the way - older, wiser me. I should be the responsible one. Also, I love so easily.
Two weeks. Two weeks.
As Coral would say, is it actually love if it’s only two weeks? Compassion, empathy, the desire to comfort — all these are sometimes called love too.
But honestly, aside from the textbook answers to things, I was thinking that living a flawless life was dull. So what? Life is messy. People go for the things they want. Desire is messy - stains bedsheets, stains lives. I’ve avoided so much of life trying to stay mess free since the early years.
I did this. On my own. And I will deal with this on my own, whatever happens. I’ll see it through.
Love is still the dirtiest word I know.
Head:heart ratio of people I know
Catrina: 60:40
Been: 95:5
Me: 30:70
Guess who has the messiest personal relationships?
John Mayer - Friends, Lovers Or Nothing with 96 plays.
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Friends, Lovers Or Nothing
John Mayer
(Source: twilight-galaxy)
"You’re always begging for things to love you, he said, as if you were a beggar for love. Even the flowers, you have to fawn on them."
— from ‘Sons And Lovers’ — D.H. Lawrence (via helloluxlisbon)
(Source: babyfaline, via word-digest)
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With friends like these, who needs lovers?
Melissa: You know they say 20-25% of us have are supposed to be sociopaths. If there were no societal pressure or good parenting they'd have no scruples about killing another human being. :S
Been: I think I'm one of the 20%. :S
Melissa: Hahaha. Please don't kill me.
Been: Lol!! But you're not the enemy!!!
Melissa: But say we're on a desert island and there's no food.
Been: I would never. My parents brought me up very well. I wouldn't be able to live with the guilty conscience anyway.
Melissa: Haha...but the point is, you'll live.
Been: It's ok. When it comes down to it, I'll make sure you'll live even if I have to kill myself.
Now
I told you once when we were young that
we would someday meet again.
Now, the years flown past, the letters
unwritten, I am not so certain.
It is autumn. There are toothaches hidden
in this wind, there are those determined
to bring forth winter at any cost.
I am resigned to dark blonde shadows
at stoplights, lost in the roadmaps of leaves
which point in every direction at once.
But I am wearing the shirt you stitched
two separate lifetimes ago. It is old
and falling to ash, yet every button blooms
the flowers of your design. I think of this
and I am happy, to have kissed
your mouth with the force of language,
to have spoken your name at all.
-‘Now’ — Greg Watson
