" There’s too many humans staring at screens and not enough French kissing under the moon. "
" A poem is never a put-up job, so to speak. It begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It is never a thought to begin with. "
" Compassion hurts. When you feel connected to everything, you also feel responsible for everything. And you cannot turn away. Your destiny is bound with the destinies of others. You must either learn to carry the Universe or be crushed by it. You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors. "
" What’s the worst thing I’ve stolen? Probably little pieces of other people’s lives. Where I’ve either wasted their time or hurt them in some way. That’s the worst thing you can steal, the time of other people. You just can’t get that back. "

h8tingthis:

i’m a strong believer that not everything you do needs an explanation. if you want a tattoo, get one. if you rather stay home that night, it’s okay to miss that party. don’t forget that you’re living for yourself. you don’t owe anyone an explanation for your choices or preferences.

(via balancebliss)

aidanfealy:

My state of mind tells me that I could conquer the world. 

Right. Now. I could dance holes in my shoes. I could write the sappiest song. I could hug AND kiss an unknowing passerby. I could start a show tune in the middle of Times Square and sing til there were thousands behind me. I could shamelessly start a cinematic dance line without any backups. I could run aimless circles in pure celebration. 

Right. Now. I could face a grizzly bear and scoff. I could play Russian roulette with a 6-shot revolver and dry-fire 5 times. I could drink a concoction of rattlesnake venom and cyanide and get a stomach-ache at worst. I could unwaveringly face a charging bull while wearing a red jumpsuit and rosy cheeks. I could beat a fatal disease. 

Right. Now. I could lose my arm in a tragic accident and the smile wouldn’t be shaken from my mouth. I could watch a meter-maid write me a parking ticket that I don’t deserve and I’d thank him for it. I could donate my life savings to a false charity. I could be asked -“Hey, I’m moving across town, could you help me out?”- by 10 separate friends and I’d oblige every last one. I could receive news of my childhood dog’s death, and I wouldn’t so much as wince. 

Am I understood?.. I’ve got the world at my fingertips and as of now, I couldn’t possibly be usurped. There isn’t a thing that I don’t have the confidence or peace-of-mind for, because of her. She’s a safety net, a safety net made of skin and bones and full of life. And apparently… Love