Paris

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Jenny. Made in the Philippines. Half-girl. Half-asleep. ♥

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For almost 18 years you’re taught to sit down, shut up, and raise your hand. Then you have to decide what you’re going to do for the rest of your life.
Lavon Curtis (via sylviaplant)

(Source: spiritualseeker)

How do you get so empty? Who takes it out of you?
Ray Bradbury Fahrenheit 451  (via loav)

(Source: larmoyante)

Forgive me for not doing the things I have said to you. Forgive me for being not true in my words. Forgive me because I am still reading and re-reading our late night conversations not even demurring that I have memorized them all; every letters, every periods you have used, every commas and every punctuation marks, even in every pauses you made just because I made you speechless. I should have done what I have said to you out of anger, that I will delete all the files you have tattooed in me but I can’t stand the pain of erasing them, they were already on my skin, I am wearing them. If only they were written on papers then I’ll just burn them all but no, they were scribbled in my heart.

Forgive me for playing repeatedly all the songs we have sung together during late afternoons or even when I get you to sleep. Forgive me for putting them all on my playlist and be loner and sometimes crying and locking herself in her bedroom, keeping herself away from world’s company and affection. Forgive me for listening unto them as I go to sleep or as I watch stars thinking you are doing the same thing. Forgive me for singing those songs and be reminded of you. They say you can select memories to be remembered but I am incapable. I really am sorry for not helping myself out to learn how to select memories who doesn’t involve you. I always loved remembering you.

Forgive me because I choose to memorize you even in the middle of playing in front of them as if I have an amnesia and telling my friends I already have forgotten you. Forgive me for being in love with the scars you have caused. Forgive me for not wanting to heal them. It is always been my pleasure of being hurt because of you. Forgive me for being like this. Forgive me for continuing to love you even if you had already stopped loving me a long time ago. Forgive me. It is all that I am asking from you, your forgiveness. Maybe one day I’m going to meet someone who would make me listen to those songs without being reminded of you or make me hear of the same lines you have told me without me getting hurt. Someday, maybe, I will.

forgive me for not getting over you, msshearty (via escafeism)
This Is How It Goes

wreckonxyle:

You feel your shoulderblades simultaneously shiver and freeze in a midwinter’s night, and the glowing flame in the fireplace and the thickness of your sweater isn’t enough to release you from the cold and darkness that embraces you wherever you go. The weathered walls yell at you and sometimes, you feel the ceiling and the crystalline chandelier all falling down on you leaving you with a heavy feeling clipped onto your chest. Intangible shadows creep in and out, to and from the room through the rotten door with a mountain of crumpled balls of paper in the corner. You imagine her sitting with you in the illuminated room while you both drink a cup of hot chocolate to get you through the cold. You wrap an arm around her as she read aloud the printed words on her favorite book, and the sound of her voice kept your bright thoughts aloft and your sweetest dreams alive despite the nightmares and monsters and ghosts that wander with you through empty sidewalks and quiet hallways. The scent of her hair waded through the unreckonable depth of darkness, scattering itself in the room just like tawny leaves spread themselves in autumn, before reaching your tired lungs. There’s a deep yearning for the radiance in her eyes, for the warmth of her smile, because you feel a ridge of ice shards and massive glaciers lining under your skin down in your bones—it’s a cold hell down there and a part of you knows she’s the only one who can melt you deep to the core.

The timeless fairy tales and love stories tell us that genuine love is something that our hands cannot maneuver or touch—something that our minds cannot manipulate or control just like gravity and the ocean tides and the rotations of planets because it is something that happens naturally like sleeping. And as many lovers claimed, they fell in love accidentally.

This is how you fall in love:

Her voice becomes an earcandy you’ll always want to listen to before you sleep, and, even among the noise, you can hear it vividly from thirty feet away. Your heart engages itself with unfathomable whispers and beats whenever you see her or every time she’s near, hoping it would synchronize with hers to produce the inaudible series of notes you’ll never feel again inside your chest. The old flames in your eyes extinguishes themselves after months of cooling down and rekindles itself with a new light allowing you to see mornings as calm and joyous as they once were, and, letting you find serendipity in every second if you look for it hard enough. Ghosts melt and disappear right before her presence and her breaths start to become a veneer for the split seams in your skin. You wake up drowsy and weak at six in the morning and your first thought was her. Your heart then smears with hope rather than blood as stars twinkle at you brighter than ever before, as it slowly sinks itself…

If falling in love is really, and always an accident, then, I’m now only inches away from danger. 


ARTIST: Up Dharma Down
TRACK: Oo (Layered)
ALBUM: Fragmented

Oo (Layered) - Up Dharma Down; First comes the left ear followed by the right ear creating a layered effect.

miseramble:

tell me every single thing i want to hear
tell me your knees get weak when i’m near
tell me you never have to leave
tell me you want to make me happy
tell me about my eyes
and how it shines even in the dark
tell me lies
tell me how i’m a rare find
tell me sweet words that sound kind
tell me how you understand my fear
tell me lies
tell me how you won’t change your mind
tell me how you miss me everyday
tell me i’m gentle and beautiful in every way
tell me you’ve read the lord of the flies
tell me lies
tell me you’ll always hold my hand
tell me everything will be alright
tell me you’ll be there, come hell or high water
tell me all the streets we’ll walk together
tell me we’ll live in the shelter of each other
tell it all nicely
tell me lies
because fuck you,
i’m in love with you, even with all your lies