All of San Francisco’s fog is in my head But all I want is company in bed And I can hardly think clearly anymore What with no one ever knocking on my door Things often seem to disappear Including me, might you hear Things are done and then long gone: In this evanescent game I’m just a pawn
Having a low opinion of yourself is not modesty. It’s self-destruction.– Bobby Sommer (via wryer)
When I realized I was not my body, I became free.– (via forlovers)
To those who won't hear this:
Good morning, I love you. Have a good day. Good afternoon, hope you’re having a good day. I love you. Goodnight, I love you. Sleep Well.
Stay close to anything that makes you glad you are alive.– Hafiz (via perfect)
One day you fall for this boy. And he touches you with his fingers. And he burns...– Maureen Medved (via ellinyjade)
youwishangelfish: Imagine reading a book of every conversation where people have spoken about you.
I need someone to hold me and tell me that everything will be okay because my mind is racing and I can hardly feel my head anymore
childishnotions: writing is safer, somehow because my pen cannot stutter like my lips do, and words get stuck in throats, not fingertips, can’t stumble on paper trails of blue lines because writing is definite and clear and no one can tell if i am crying or laughing through written words alone exactly
How foolish I am to write down the words of others as inspiration for my own when all I need to produce the perfectly prosed poem is already within me
Recent excitements: I got F. Scott Fitzgerald’s autobiography, and I can’t wait to read it. The Great Gatsby movie comes out in less than a month. The song I wrote for history homework is pretty badass. Every college within a 2000-mile radius knows my address. (…)
to be honest I don’t even know if I agree with what I just wrote sometimes I feel like past versions of my soul write poems with my hands and publish them in my current name because “writers aren’t really people. they are a whole bunch of people trying to be one person”
Note to self and others:
Refrain from using the word “always” in reference to earthly things. Nothing transcends time other than the love of the stars for their offspring down below.
All I need:
- Someone to call “darling” - a cup of coffee - pen - writing canvas - a good book - enchanting people - an enchanting town - things to stimulate the senses (beauty) - color - peace. Edit: and sunshine.
Oh, how I love to really write, with pen and paper and passion
Anonymous asked: Dear Maxine, you are a beautiful; body and soul. It is hard to find people in the world that are truly wonderful- many do not understand the beauty of everything, but just from looking though your blog its clear to me that you are one of those rare people. You can find beauty in the ugliest places- Thank you for bringing humanity to this world we live on- YOU BELONG HERE. Even though you may not...
With soft eyes He watches her Without So much as a twinkle Of greed in his mind With soft lips He kisses her worries Away Without An ounce of lust In his body And With soft words He spins her a lullaby Without A single Fawning Intention In his heart
I dream of singing you to sleep With the sweet sounds of my heart As it flutters against your touch I dream of lying awake In wonder Contemplating the impossible questions: Why do you love me? Why are we here? Why has the Universe provided this chance To escape our very shallow world In as humble a place as a bedroom?
The nightmares you had as a child that you still can’t shake And the things that make you shiver when you hear them Those are the things that I want to know about Those are the things that help me ascertain whether you’re worth my time Or not Because the most worthwhile people are always the most shakeable And the least palpable