i love u 

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i love u 

(Source: dreamager)

Sep 16th at 1AM / via: daintyyetdangerous / op: dreamager / reblog / 57,814 notes

In my soul of Seoul 

by Hajin Bae

Sep 13th at 2PM / via: soulist-aurora / op: soulist-aurora / reblog / 1,065 notes
Every kid should be this appreciative

Every kid should be this appreciative

(Source: acidocasualidad)

Sep 13th at 2PM / via: epic-humor / op: acidocasualidad / reblog / 98,800 notes

“They walked on rather aimlessly. He hoped she wouldn’t notice he was touched, because he wouldn’t have known how to explain why. Here lay the great discrepancy between aesthetic truth and sleazy reality.”

Patrick White, The Vivisector

“A kind word twenty years ago may be responsible for an unexpected good job today.”

JA: Writing, What does it Mean to You?

Writing is a dear friend to me, who has no choice but to listen and I can imagine it cares. Combing out the knots of the tangled mind, airing out the diapasons of the heart; writing brings healing and joy to my soul. In less dramatic terms, writing delineates my thoughts, gives understanding for my feelings, helping me process what living -whether it be apathetically or enthusiastically-  has brought upon. Writing is not a one way communication, but in writing I am, in a sense, speaking to myself -at the same not myself- relearning as I begin to slow down my pace from the raucous days. When I create a space and time for myself to write, often what is written is not from me but by me.

I’ve always had a love for talking, but an overpowering fear of sharing so I was reduced to writing, talking to an open space; whether it be a blank journal page or fresh new tab on Wordpress, I let my fingers speak instead of my lips. During elementary-highschool I lacked the basic skills of a writer due to my rebellion against grammar; however, I was a feeble rebel and now in remorse of my foolish fight.

Writing is an ineffable struggle because words will always fall short of what the mind has thought or the heart feels, that is why poetry is something I am deeply enamored by. Poetry expresses, but does not cage the meanings of the words, communicating and letting the readers know there is more to it than the denotation of the words.

Although the start of my writing was from fear, I hope that in my writing I could also begin sharing whatever this vessel has to offer. To be a ship of words that people could sail to for a placid journey. Whether it be prose or poetry to have an underlying mellifluous tune that would fight to create beauty in the mundane, insight in the overly known and gratitude in the guarantees. I hope I will become a brave human, choosing to feel the full capacity and range of what humanity feels and dare to embark the dark and dangerous borders of the mind so readers could feel sane and safe in the insanity.


I write with my finger on the backs of friends due to my despondency……  

“The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.”

L. P. Hartley
Sep 8th at 11AM / reblog / 1 note

(Source: kittiezandtittiez)

Sep 8th at 8AM / via: tishelen / op: kittiezandtittiez / reblog / 458,566 notes

during the first few years the Word caused me to dance and laugh. 

these last few years the Word causes me to be immobile and weep

I am who I am by the grace and will of God. 
They are who they are by the grace and will of God. 

Sep 4th at 11PM / reblog / 2 notes
same wish since 3 

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same wish since 3 

(Source: 10bullets)

Sep 4th at 11PM / via: paint-them-all-red / op: 10bullets / reblog / 764 notes

(Source: butt-berry)

Sep 4th at 11PM / via: the-absolute-best-posts / op: butt-berry / reblog / 171,546 notes

“You don’t have a soul…You are a soul. You have a body, temporarily.”

Walter M. Miller Jr., A Canticle for Leibowitz 
Sep 4th at 11PM / via: wordsnquotes / op: wordsnquotes / reblog / 1,411 notes