Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
by Pablo Neruda, Tonight I Can Write (via 090108)
The animal shelter sent me a letter and I’m going to a volunteer orientation soon :^)
I’m rlly sorry for the negativity
by Talib Kweli, Beautiful (via vacants)
I met with a psychiatrist for a preliminary meeting last week, the office had a bad vibe, everything was disorganized and the windows were dusty it made me sad I want them to be organized so I can know that maybe they can organize me
it is true vision if one can locate the beauty in people, objects & places that are rough around their edges.
stop romanticizing unhealthy relationships.
stop thinking you can change someone. you can’t. they need to change for themselves.
stop romanticizing the idea of you two being together some day. if it isn’t happening now, let it go.
no more pouring your heart out for someone who gives you little to no reciprocation.
find someone who values your long letters and passionate attempts. this person will reciprocate, with twice as much fire.