359
01 Oct 14 at 7 am

samuraitears:

Chill of death beckons   Honor and Respect we meet   We are kindred Souls

(via liquidpyro)

samuraitears:

Chill of death beckons   Honor and Respect we meet   We are kindred Souls
 173437
01 Oct 14 at 7 am

6 Word Poem About Love, by Devyn Springer  (via liquidpyro)

(via yvonnievonniee)

"Some names will always taste bitter."

 3
30 Sep 14 at 9 pm
tags: word vomit 

I love the way you bite my lips - as if you are trying to pull all of my swear words and broken promises out of my vocabulary, and I love the way your smirk. 
The way your touch up your hair. The way you kiss me. 

Should we not be afraid of those who are easy to fall in love with? Everything that you are, potentially could be, and all the morals you stand for attract me
beyond compare and in all honesty,

I can see myself falling in love with you over and over again.

"I'm Not The Only One"
Sam Smith
In The Lonely Hour
(32) plays
 2
30 Sep 14 at 9 pm
tags: personal  swanpoetry 

"Tell them that you’re sorry." 

The words choke upon the simplest of attempts;
we are bred to never apologize to anyone.
Appreciate your new wounds,
dust off the shoulders, 
turn around.
Let them bark, shout, insult -
Whatever.

Silence is the greatest offensive
it taunts like no other. 

But this is not the reason why
you hold your head high -
you must apologize
for reasons beyond repair;
to save these fragile
yet powerful words
for moments of despair

Speak these gentle words
when you really mean it. 
Stop clashing against yourself.

 3
30 Sep 14 at 8 pm

I fucking hate hickeys. I hate the way they look on another, on myself, and I know this is supposed to mean something so much more but I am angry, and this unfortunately stunts my depth of reasoning. 

brvnd-nswvn:

1. Everything must constantly be a test to hone your skills.
2. Trials must be treated as if it were the finals, the final exam, the final race, the final obstacle, because those who you compete with at the actual finish line share a similar state of mind.
3. Your words are a lethal weapon to carry around but remember that there’s a safety switch and understand when to turn it from off to on.
4. Knowledge is never ending; crave knowledge from the cradle to the grave.
5. Loyalty is the highest valued currency.
6. Honesty is a close second.
7. Love is something that can never truly be defined. Accept it as it comes.
8. Appreciate madness as well as sorrowfulness, the good and the bad; because although you may hate the rain, somewhere else would sacrifice anything for a drop.
9. Media, novels, and peers are all sources of influence; your goal is to be just as persuasive.
10. Flexibility is not a sign of weakness; howling winds can knock down a great oak but dandelions bend freely.
11. Once you love yourself, people will declare it as egoism or arrogance; ride this wave of insults as compliments.
12. Apologize to those who refuse it. You owe it to them the most.
13. You do not need everyone’s approval. 

 40674
28 Sep 14 at 2 pm

Douglas Adams (via deamhain)

(Source: sexhaver, via beyourdefinition)

"This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I’d gotten the time of the train wrong.
I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.
I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind.
Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.
It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.
Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know… But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?
In the end I thought, nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.
Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice …” I mean, it doesn’t really work.
We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.
Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.
The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line."

 4
27 Sep 14 at 11 pm
tags: personal 

To find utter rage and fury within the open gaps of the mind, seeping through what presented itself as a euphoria, has never tasted so bitter with the knife in the back.

Enough anger to punch through a tree, snapping the supports with brute force you are not humane in your methods of reasoning. 

What was the point of all that therapy for anger management, when it is so easily broken through? 

Grow up, Brandon.

 39
18 Sep 14 at 11 pm

Why Being Terrified Is Better Than Being Boxed In (via nujanes)

"

But, rising up takes courage, the kind of courage that does not come easy, that does not just simply present itself. It has taken me a long time to understand that it’s easier to believe in the randomness of experience. It’s easier to be snarky and jaded and bitter and helpless and to decry anyone who has hope. It’s easier to believe nothing changes, despite evidence to the contrary all around us. It takes far less bravery to hate than it does to steadfastly love. And, it takes the utmost bravery to embrace life as a means to growth, to enrich your own life and the lives of others, to create the life you want.

And, while it may be terrifying to step into the limitlessness of a less certain life, we have to believe it’s worth doing so, if only for the opportunity to deepen ourselves and to experience more of everything. That leap toward the unknown is not for the weak-willed. It means shedding who we were in the unsteady hope of becoming and continuing to become. It’s about stepping away from who you are and stepping into, simply, being. Existing. Experiencing. Without meaning or attachment. It’s lightness. And it’s wonderful and terrifying and lovely and peaceful and chaotic and it’s everything and nothing simultaneously. In short, it’s your life, that patchworked version of it, all frayed edges and uneven cuts. But it’s yours. And, that means a whole hell of a lot.

"

 4
18 Sep 14 at 3 am

Honestly, this past week hasn’t been so bad was beyond amazing.

tags: myself 
"Inochi no Namae"
Hayao Miyazaki
Relaxing Piano - Hayao Miyazaki Collection
(10215) plays
 4
18 Sep 14 at 2 am

I do not need people, I do not need you, and I definitely do not need any support. 
I will repeat this until the words echo from every God-forsaken tree, off of every surface of water, and return back into my stubborn head. 

Screaming that I do not need any help until my voice succumbs to the dry tears in my throat; my yells are a whisper now.

and I will whisper, “I do not need you, I do not need this, and I will do this on my own.”

There’s something so dangerous about you and it is the way you trust, love, and care so blindly. 

The danger doesn’t develop from myself, rather the fear that something will fall upon you and I wouldn’t be able to express my last thoughts, words, and emotions. 

Hesitation drawn from this constant oscillation of whether or not you are truly that easy to fall in love with; due to your absolute openness and honesty. 

How interesting, that it never fails to come around in a full circle. Here we are again, at the beginning of it all - in a complete cycle. Are you up for a little bit of risks and a different direction this time?