Sometimes you need to remind yourself that you were the one who carried you through the heartache. You are the one who sits with the cold body on the shower floor, and picks it up. You are the one who feeds it, who clothes it, who tucks it into bed, and you should be proud of that. Having the strength to take care of yourself when everyone around you is trying to bleed you dry, that is the strongest thing in the universe.
“You are beautiful only when you do beautiful things. Full lips aren’t as beautiful as a full laugh. Skinny Hips aren’t as beautiful as a quick wit. Think about treating others right, and they will flock to you in screaming droves.”—Cecil Baldwin, Welcome to Night Vale (via khutuluns-bow)
“I have wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but somehow I am still in love with life. This ridiculous weakness is perhaps one of our more stupid melancholy propensities, for is there anything more stupid than to be eager to go on carrying a burden which one would gladly throw away, to loathe one’s very being and yet to hold it fast, to fondle the snake that devours us until it has eaten our hearts away?”—Voltaire, Candide: or, Optimism (via exoticwild)
“Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn’t it be the other way around? I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void.”—Nora Ephron, via Kathleen Kelly in You’ve Got Mail (via sogoodnightdearvoid)
one of these days, you’ll wake up and you’ll know, you’ll just know that this is the day that changes everything. it’s winter, or autumn, or maybe the end of summer or the beginning of spring; it’s a time, and it’s now, and you are so alive, so radiant the sun looks down on you in awe whispering to the other stars: ‘see, that one is going to go places. that one knows now what matters.’
i imagine it like this:
one of these days, the center of your gravity will shake and rattle; it will shift and flip until it settles in you. nothing will weight you down anymore. you’ll be your own anchor, your own gravity, your own sunshine and spring morning; you’ll be yourself in all its glory.
i imagine it like this:
one of these days, it’s eight am. on a Saturday morning and you are dancing to the tunes crooning from the radio on the counter of your kitchen and you sound off key and miss most of the words but everything else is right where it should be. you cook yourself a breakfast that is too much for one person but just enough for you. you eat to the rhythm of your heart beat and the music filling out the air around you and nothing could beat this; you are so alive with your own love for you, you feel like flying.
“My heart didn’t break into a thousand pieces after he left. Instead, I realized all the things he didn’t do. He didn’t want to hear my stories. He didn’t ask me questions. He didn’t smile when I was talking to him. He didn’t hug me out of the blue to make me feel good. His hugs were always a preamble to something else and after he was gone, I wondered if he ever knew me at all.”—Diane Les Becquets (via wordsthat-speak)