look: the right people will get it. the right people will see you and appreciate you for the person that you are. the right people won’t require you to dilute, censor, or edit yourself in order to be worthy of their time and affection. you don’t need to waste your time on people who are committed to misunderstanding you
Have you ever felt like you’re searching for an answer that you can never quite find the answer to?
Stop sleeping on yourself
You are good enough and you don’t need to be validated by anyone but yourself.
once, i loved red
acid in my mouth, sharp and biting to hurt
cuts to my lips from sharp canines
salves to our bites, nothing for our words
i loved red like i couldn’t love at all
free rein to our mouths, wild
vulgar, loud, and intense
i loved red like i couldn’t love anyone else
teeth to skin like a declaration of love
licks of pain from the back of my tongue
vocal chords straining and stiff
fights till the break of fucking dawn
we weren’t right, we weren’t wrong
the sheer violence behind our lips
red, red, red
red, i’d never forget.
— red, colours of those i loved. (via waadtariq)
The spiritual journey is individual, highly personal. It can’t be organised or regulated. It isn’t true that everyone should follow one path. Listen to your own truth.
— Ram Dass (via aspiritualwarrior)
Warm Weather
It’s summer, and everything is better.
The air smells sweeter, the sun shines brighter, and, though your worries are still present, there is a comforting sense of ease that accompanies you that wasn’t there before. Summer, you would argue, is contentment in the form of a season.
On one particular summer day, you are relaxing inside your home while laying on your couch. You have a popsicle in hand and the windows are open wide behind you; a cool breeze makes the curtains dance. Distantly, you register the sound of a lawnmower and an ice cream truck’s jingle. You’ve missed this. You haven’t had the chance to relax in awhile. Someone’s grilling - you can smell it - and you muse about the barbecues you might attend.
The ice cream truck is getting closer and by the sound of it it’s just turned down your street. The song it plays is one you’d normally find annoying, but today it only makes you grin with all that it implies. Summer. Relaxation. Freedom. You might get ice cream later on, but for now you have your popsicle and you don’t really want to get up anyways.
You should probably call your friends and see if they want to get together. You had all promised to stay in touch over the summer, but you know you’re not that great at reaching out. Through your window behind you, you hear the jingle grow louder. The ice cream truck must be right outside your house now.
Maybe you’ll even do a bit of cleaning. You sure hadn’t gotten around to “spring cleaning,” but better late than never. It’s-it’s really loud now, isn’t it? Why is the ice cream truck’s music so loud? You can barely hear yourself think. In fact, it sounds like it’s coming from inside your house now. But that’s ridiculous.
The window is still at your back and the song only grows louder. You don’t want to move. Why should you? It’s crazy. There’s no way it’s inside your house-
An icy cold hand wraps itself around your shoulder.
It screams. You scream.
W e a l l s c r e a m f o r i c e c r e a m .