Don’t fall in love with a curious one. They will want to know who you are, where you come from, what your family was like. They will look through your photographs and read all of your poems. They will come over for dinner and speak to your mother about how their curiosity has taught them things of use to her. They will ask you to rant when you’re angry and cry when you’re hurt. They will ask what that raised eyebrow meant. They will want to know your favorite food, your favorite color, you favorite person. They will ask why. They will buy that camera you liked, pay attention to that band you love in case there’s a show near by, they will get you the sweater you smiled at once. They’ll learn to cook your favorite meals. The curious people don’t settle for your shell, they want the insides. They want what makes you heavy, what makes you uneasy, what makes you scream for joy, and anger, and heartbreak. Their skin will turn into pages that you learn to pour out your entire being in. Don’t fall in love with the curious one. They won’t let a sigh go unexplained. They will want to know what they did Exactly what they did to make you love them. Year, month, week, day. “What time was it? What did I say? What did I do? How did you feel?” Don’t fall in love with a curious one because I’ve been there. They will unbutton your shirt and read every scar every mark every curve. They will dissect your every limb, every organ, every thought, every being then walk back home and eat their dinner and never return your calls. You will never be their lifelong expedition. The heart is a mystery only for so long. There is no ache like loving a curious one who chases every falling star and never catching one. Who comes and sees and conquers and leaves. I’ve fallen in love with a curious one. Maybe one day he will take the train back home and be curious enough to read one last message from me carved on a seat. “There’s a curiosity in you that will move mountains some day as effortlessly as you’ve moved me for years.”
• 7 May 2013 • 28,836 notes
Northern Downpour - Panic! At the Disco
• 7 May 2013 • 84 notes
“Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you.
You must travel it by yourself.
It is not far. It is within reach.
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know.
Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land.”
— Walt Whitman (via creatingaquietmind)
(Source: dreamersmind, via creatingaquietmind)
• 4 May 2013 • 380 notes
Favourite Books - A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket
Of course, it is quite possible to be in the dark in the dark, but there are so many secrets in the world that it is likely that you are always in the dark about one thing or another, whether you are in the dark in the dark or in the dark not in the dark, although the sun can go down so quickly that you may be in the in the dark about being in the dark, only to look around and find yourself no longer in the dark about being in the dark, but in the dark in the dark nontheless, not only because of the dark, but because of the ballerinas in the dark, who are not in the dark about the dark, but also not in the dark about the locked cabinet, and you may be in the dark about the ballerinas digging up the locked cabinet in the dark, even though you are no longer in the dark about being in the dark, and so you are in fact in the dark about being in the dark, even though you are not in the dark about being in the dark, and so you may fall into the hole that the ballerinas have dug, which is dark, in the dark, and in the park.
(inspired by mmorrow’s magazine-type photosets)
(Source: afterlithe, via thegirlandherbooks)
• 2 May 2013 • 4,220 notes
“What I needed was a connection with someone. Someone real. I felt that need in the marrow of my bones, in my pancreas, in my kneecaps. I did not need an endless sea of flesh. What I needed was to be loved.”
• 2 May 2013 • 2,288 notes
“Am I something? And the answer comes, already am, always was, and I still have time to be”
— Anis Mojgani (via creatingaquietmind)
(Source: thesunkeeper, via creatingaquietmind)
• 2 May 2013 • 848 notes
I buy nights
in cheap glass bottles
and let constellations swirl
around my throat
before swallowing them down
(enough and it tastes
a lot like love)
break before they bend
(especially glass bottles
who will headbutt life
until they lose)
so are you going to spit
defiantly at the universe
or choke on it?
• 1 May 2013 • 82 notes
Most interesting abandoned places in the world.
• 1 May 2013 • 45,200 notes