Youth, my sacrament 

lusting bodies and soft touch

eyes open, I blink

I am so resolved

to be open and free still

but I am confined

And dozens of men 

go to die for their country

and the youth are still

exuberant and 

fleeting, and my voice does not 

carry as it should. 

Tears fall down my face

I am young again but dead

and dying is my last rite. 

This gives me a sense of peace and calm. 

This gives me a sense of peace and calm. 

(Source: imagesbyromi, via ghostoilet)

I’m in love with you,” he said quietly.

"Augustus," I said.

"I am," he said. He was staring at me, and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”

John Green, The Fault in Our Stars (via itskrystalxox)
jewist:

untitled by NVM Illustration on Flickr.

(Source: riotlolita, via ghostoilet)

imanopenbookinstead:

Words by perfectionisodd.tumblr.com
Doodle by imanopenbookinstead.tumblr.com

imanopenbookinstead:

Words by perfectionisodd.tumblr.com

Doodle by imanopenbookinstead.tumblr.com

(via ghostoilet)

(Source: braintutu, via lovequotesrus)

(Source: jemeos, via s0brevilla)

Fuck everything

My last couple days have been awful. Everything that could go wrong has. I’ve been crying on and off and had to go to class this morning with swollen eyes. It’s like, even if I have to feel bad my body makes sure I get a couple “you look tired” or “what’s wrong” from people I don’t feel like addressing. I just want to keep my sadness and loneliness somewhat private. But when I’m laying in bed and sobbing, gut wrenching, tummy-ache producing sobs— I want to be held. I want somebody to pick me up and hold me and give me kisses all over my face. I want to be reassured that I’m not a failure and that I’m as great as I usually think I am. But I don’t want to reassure myself in half-psychotic whispers “you’re great” when in reality there’s nobody there telling me that. I can’t be that delusional.. believe me, I’ve tried. I feel as if life is an endless stream of crying since birth, with momentary laughs, and in the end you go out quietly from exhaustion. I’ve found myself thinking random things like, “I wonder how it might feel to experience my nails spontaneously falling off?” I can’t even… I need some rest and love. I’m tired of feeling like I’m going it alone. I’m tired of not feeling like my efforts are respected by people who would spit in my face if they could. 

Let people feel the weight of who you are and let them deal with it.

John Eldridge  (via cultious)

(Source: arrayedlike1ofthese, via s0brevilla)

(Source: cophines, via asdfghjkllove)

dear-photograph:

Dear Photograph,All those years ago you stood here in the country, ready to marry Mom and spend the rest of your life together. Now 57 years later she spends each day with you as you gradually forget and slip further away from us. But love and family endure, and we cherish each day we still have together.Love, Your Family

dear-photograph:

Dear Photograph,
All those years ago you stood here in the country, ready to marry Mom and spend the rest of your life together. Now 57 years later she spends each day with you as you gradually forget and slip further away from us. But love and family endure, and we cherish each day we still have together.
Love, Your Family