(via grryffindork)
"
Beautiful things grow out of shit. Nobody ever believes that. Everyone thinks that Beethoven had his string quartets completely in his head—they somehow appeared there and formed in his head—and all he had to do was write them down and they would be manifest to the world. But what I think is so interesting, and would really be a lesson that everybody should learn, is that things come out of nothing. Things evolve out of nothing. You know, the tiniest seed in the right situation turns into the most beautiful forest. And then the most promising seed in the wrong situation turns into nothing. I think this would be important for people to understand, because it gives people confidence in their own lives to know that’s how things work.
If you walk around with the idea that there are some people who are so gifted—they have these wonderful things in their head but and you’re not one of them, you’re just sort of a normal person, you could never do anything like that—then you live a different kind of life. You could have another kind of life where you could say, well, I know that things come from nothing very much, start from unpromising beginnings, and I’m an unpromising beginning, and I could start something.
"— Brian Eno, Here Is What Is (cf. David Rakoff: “Writing starts off as shit.”)
(via pigmenting)
"Instead of asking why they left, now I ask, what beauty will I create in the space they no longer occupy?"
— Rudy Francisco (via thunderpopcola)
(via thunderpopcola)
"I spilled my heart on my mother’s lap
and told her I lost myself.
My tears streamed down my cheeks into her palms, releasing aches and secrets my soul could no longer hold onto.
She ran her fingers through my infinite locks and said: “When I brought you into this world, I had to first break myself open. And when I did, I gained the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me- you."
and told her I lost myself.
My tears streamed down my cheeks into her palms, releasing aches and secrets my soul could no longer hold onto.
She ran her fingers through my infinite locks and said: “When I brought you into this world, I had to first break myself open. And when I did, I gained the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me- you."
— And so I picked up my pieces, and realized my mother did not create me so a man can break me. (via faramosh)
(via verbalcalisthenics)
"
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
— Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII (via implexa)
(via ruegracieuse)
sometimes I get sad but then the world does this and everything’s okay
(via saltyoceansandmarmalade)
