(Reblogged from serenegr33n)

Some Nights

Baby I won’t lie..

Life gets hard,

& some mornings you’ll wish to be anywhere but where you are,

Some nights you’ll wish upon an empty star,

Other nights your mind will drift as time shifts,

For no apparent reason you’ll think about the times you’ve missed,

The lingering bruises in your soul that have yet to be kissed,

Some mornings you’ll wake up with a list,

of memories you thought you had long dismissed,

& the ones you wish you could remember..

will turn out to be like a fleeing shiver on a cold night in December,

I won’t lie baby…

You’ll have plenty of smiles,

Moments that’ll make you forget about life’s misfortunes & trials,

You’ll lose yourself to dances that will last forever even if they only existed for a while,

But some nights your mind will drift.. & you’ll need a number to dial,

Keep my name somewhere in the basement of your heart.. you’ll find me in a dusty, faded file.

L.Q

SBTRKT- Trials of the Past

Here’s to books, the cheapest vacation you can buy.
Charlaine Harris (via screwsociety)

(Source: observando)

(Reblogged from screwsociety)

plasticwaves:

Marina Ambramovic & Ulay Laysiepen

Death Self, 1977

This performance consisted of the two artists seated in front of each other, connected at the mouth. They took in each other’s breaths until all of their available oxygen had been used up. The performance lasted only 17 minutes, resulting in both artists collapsing unconscious to the floor, having filled their lungs with carbon dioxide. This personal piece explored the idea of an individual’s ability to absorb the life of another person, exchanging and destroying it.

(Source: murielheslop)

(Reblogged from serenegr33n)

Who Knows?

Night& Day, Day& Night. You& I, Us, We. Now, Later, Forever ..Never. 

Old Messages

I was rummaging through my email today and came across things I thought I had long deleted. To my surprise there were still fragments of conversations I had long left behind. As I sat here and read them.. I couldn’t help but think; how could I have ever even bothered to produce such words.. to pump so much life into an empty vessel? What made me think I could swim through quicksand? How could I have ever confused quicksand for an infinite ocean? No wonder beauty was impossible to plant and happiness could never bloom. For the overwhelming nothingness that lived in every edge of her soul was enough to drown even the slightest possibility of something beautiful. To read passages you wrote yourself yet see them consist of a person you don’t even recognize is probably one of the saddest things you’ll ever come across. But to read them and truly know in the pit of your soul those words belong to a shadow that no longer exists is heavenly. To know you are swimming in the depths of a sea you only once dreamed is godly. 

- If you’re wondering, “How do I let go?” You don’t. Believe it or not, it’s already been done. The difficult but most rewarding part is accepting it. I hope you find your ocean and when you do… I hope you dare to swim.