“And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.”—Sylvia Plath (via swallowed-words)
"Janie stood where he left her for unmeasurable time and thought. She stood there until something fell off the shelf inside her. Then she went inside there to see what it was. It was her image of Jody tumbled down and shattered. But looking at it she saw that it never was the flesh and blood figure of her dreams. Just something she had grabbed up to drape her dreams over. In a way, she turned her back upon the image where it lay and looked further. She had no more blossomy openings dusting pollen over her man, neither any glistening young fruit where the petals used to be. She found that she had a host of thoughts she had never expressed to him, and numerous emotions she had never let Jody know about. Things packed up and put away in parts of her heart where he could never find them. She was saving up feelings for some man she had never seen. She had an inside and an outside now and suddenly she knew how not to mix them."
“My sense is that God is a He and a She and a Do and a That. If there is a God, God is bigger than religion and to really encounter God makes religion shrink to pretty much nothingness.”—Neal Campbell (via thepuckaliarcall)
Don’t be afraid to suffer; return
that heaviness to the earth’s own weight;
heavy are the mountains, heavy the seas.
Even the small trees you planted as children
have long since become too heavy; you could not
carry them now. But the winds… But the spaces….”—Rainer Maria Rilke, The Sonnets to Orpheus (translated by Stephen Mitchell)
How lonely you must be to be so incredibly miserable. Where you have turned to hate, I only feel pity. And these are, of course, the last lines I write for you.
Sadly, I’ve heard that line (“the last lines I write for you”) so many times. And yet, you keep showing up. And I don’t quite understand why you still read my Tumblr anyway.
Are you upset that I’m actually over you? Is that why you still feel the need to insert your anonymous comments? And you can see it as hate… fine. But to me, it’s just the closing of a door, never wanting to be open again.
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I had chosen a different path. If I had said yes to you and no to myself. If I had chosen to slave after the moon and all its glory instead of basking in the sun.
I wonder what it would have been like to have you love me into living, instead of to death. If you had stayed on the phone with me as I slept. If you had let me love you.
I chose to keep myself instead of paying for the cost of love. I chose to thrive in my own identity, to love myself despite the harsh coldness of my breath and the rash emotions of my heart. I chose me instead of you… or us.
I chose this. I chose to better myself and move on. So why haven’t I invested in it? Why do I still feel as though self is a lot less valuable than us?
So many thoughts. Though nothing has seemed to change. I just wonder when my life will start without you. When I will see a full return on the investment I placed in myself instead of us. When will I reap the rewards of all my sacrifice? Haven’t I lost enough along this journey?
Doesn’t everyone deserve their own oasis? An utopia of the self? Basking in all the attributes that I am and will never be again.
“I thought that I could not be hurt;
I thought that I must surely be
impervious to suffering-
immune to pain
My world was warm with April sun
my thoughts were spangled green and gold;
my soul filled up with joy, yet
felt the sharp, sweet pain that only joy
can hold.”—Sylvia Plath, I thought that I could not be hurt (excerpt)
come coil with me
here in creation’s bed
among the twigs and ribbons
of the past. i have grown old
remembering the garden,
the hum of the great cats
moving into language, the sweet
fume of the man’s rib
as it rose up and began to walk.
it was all glory then,
the winged creatures leaping
like angels, the oceans claiming
their own. let us rest here a time
like two old brothers
who watched it happen and wondered
what it meant.”—
Nerve endings have dulled enough to not feel any semblance of loneliness. Which is great, most of the times.
But I miss missing love. If that even makes sense to you. It’s like missing out on a whole other world of dreaming and longing. It’s like giving up of your childhood teddy bear or finishing a really great book. It’s that feeling—the one that I’m missing, the one that I have found myself unable to feel.
But it’s coming back. Slowly. Now I just need someone to love.
“That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.”—F. Scott Fitzgerald (via more-or-less-human)
We stood in a sea of people completely lost. I grabbed your hand and we drifted over. You lead me away, gripping me as tightly as I was you. Anticipation growing and then…the let down. A hug goodbye. A kiss on the cheek. We part our separate ways and think of all that went wrong and all we could have done right.
“You say that you love rain, but you open your umbrella when it rains. You say that you love the sun, but you find a shadow spot when the sun shines. You say that you love the wind, but you close your windows when wind blows. This is why I am afraid, you say that you love me too.”—William Shakespeare (via swallowed-words)
“There was nothing left to see. It happened and it was impossible and beautiful and then it ended before it even really began, leaving nothing behind but secrets and broken hearts.”—Sarah Ockler (Twenty Boy Summer)
We keep these memories locked tight inside our heart. They start out light, fluttering around inside of us like butterflies. But then the memories collect and take up more and more room. And the memories become darker, no longer butterflies, but demons too. Your heart becomes heavy. Heavy too quickly. But come close and I’ll tell you a secret to make you light as air. Let go.