[6] She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there's time to change
Since she returned from her stay on the moon
She listens like spring and she talks like June
(Train, Drops of Jupiter)
Look at the sky: that is for you. Look at each person's face as you pass on the street: those faces are for you. And the street itself, and the ground under the street, and the ball of fire underneath the ground: all these things are for you. There are as much for you as they are for other people. Remember this when you wake up in the morning and think you have nothing.
[1] Life is truly a ride. We're all strapped in and no one can stop it. As you make your way from youth to adulthood to maturity, sometimes you put your arms up and scream. Sometimes you hang onto the bar in front of you. But the ride is the thing. I think the most you can hope for at the end of life is that your hair is messed up, you're out of breath, and you didn't throw up.
[2] Don't say you never left me when your eyes are fighting with your heart for the truth in the conversation. Don't tell me I'm the only one when your eyes won't stop fighting with your heart when you wrap your arms around me. Now I'm gone
[3] I want to be the girl who leaves an everlasting impression on someone. I don't want to be the type you'll forget in a week. I want to be hard to forget. I want to have the kind of impact on someone where they know they'll never find anyone else who can take my place.
[4] Tell me, how did it get this far? I think I forgot what went wrong. Well, you better think that through too because I'm done writing love songs for you.
[5] You're just like god made you, so embrace that, love on that. I know how hard it is some mornings to look in the mirror at all your imperfections and be stoked about what you see, let alone feel loved, but how about today we try? I mean, what the heck, if god sent you here looking that way I’ve got a real good feeling. We are who we are for a pretty good reason. Know today that you are adored, god adores you, and if you don't believe that, it's cool, you don't have to. It does not mean at all that you're still not adored
[6] You can say that love is not divine and You can say that life is not eternal "All we have is now" But I don't believe it.
[7] I read somewhere that if you think you're going to cry, you can recite the color of things to make it stop. Green tree. Red windmill. Blue sky. Blue jeans. Blue eyes. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him all of it, but that was crazy, wasn't it? I mean, I just met him. So what did I do? I asked him to tell me something. The amazing thing was that he did and when he looked at me, I felt not the rush of yesterday, when it seemed like the whole world was awake and alive and singing, but something else. Something big and profound and bottomless. Something that answered another question, one that I wasn't even aware that I had asked. Standing there next to an overgrown mini-golf course in the middle of the woods in North Carolina, I heard an answer. And that answer was yes.
[8] You're beautiful. With God's beauty, beautiful inside and out. (Luke 1:28)
[9] I don't care. And I’ll keep telling myself that until it's true.
[10] We fell in love with the windows rolled down chasing the sunset through another empty town.
[1] So let's say that theoretically I really like you, and theoretically even though it sounds moronically cliché and overused, you give me butterflies. And just for kicks, lets add that, all in theory of course, you may be one of the most wonderful people I have ever met, and hypothetically my heart beats ten times faster when I see you. Do you think that you would supposedly (and in the most theoretical sense) feel the same way?
[2] Its that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you know something you used to love so much has changed, and you long for things to go back to the way they were, but you knew all along they wouldn't
[3] If you really want to know something about me, you should know this: I like my music loud. I mean loud. I’m not talking the kind of loud where your parents knock on your bedroom door and ask you to turn it down. Please. that's amateur house. When I say loud, I mean you can't hear your parents knocking and the neighbors are putting a for sale sign on their house and moving to another block because they can't handle the constant noise anymore loud. You have to turn it up so that your chest shakes and the drums get in between your ribs like a heartbeat and the bass goes up your spine and frizzles your brain and all you can do is dance or spin in a circle or just scream along because you know that however this music makes you feel, it's exactly right.
[4] I have never been strong enough to stay. People say that walking away is the hardest thing to do, but it isn’t. staying, even when you know it will break your heart, is the hardest thing. Staying right where you are, waiting for your entire world to be ripped into pieces is much harder than walking away and starting a new one.
[5] I'm trying to find words to convince you to stay, trying to pick myself up but you're getting away and I keep falling down. The words won't come out. My tongue twists in circles, keeps them trapped in my mouth but I need the ocean or the sand or the high that I felt when you first held my hand. And honey, I just don't feel right alone.
[6] We all see the same sky. Even you. It’s what we see in the sky that makes us different.
[7] May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art - write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can; and I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.
[8] It’s like when you’ve been listening to music for hours, and suddenly the playlist ends; that crushing absence of sound the deafening silence. and you start to hear things that you missed before… the rain on your window, the tv in the next room. and it makes you wonder, what else could you hear if you listened beyond the song you were playing
[9] I do understand the impulse. The impulse to put your hand out and want someone to be there at the end of your reach. To want someone to be close to. To want to kiss or touch even if it's wrong. The point is, you can't control these feelings. Even if they're wrong, they're there. They're always there.
[10] She wanted something else, something different, and something more. Passion and romance perhaps or maybe quiet conversations in candlelit rooms, or perhaps something as simple as not being second best.
[1] We're so different. We're hot and cold, fire and water. I'm loud, you're quiet. I talk, you listen. I'm crazy, you're sane, but that's why this works. You fill in my missing pieces and I complete you, and I guess that's why, despite the questions and the challenges, I still believe in us and I still believe in this. And as long as we have each other, I think we'll be alright
[2] I took my morning walk. I took my evening walk. I ate something. I thought about something. I wrote. I napped and dreamed something, too. And with all that something, I still have nothing because so much of something has always been and always will be you
[3] Hope is not about proving anything, it's about choosing to believe that love is bigger than any grim, bleak, darkness that anyone can throw at us.
[4] “I remember when the whales had wings,” she said.
“Whatever happened?” I said.
"It got to be too noisy with all the airplanes and other stuff, so they flew into the ocean and never came back. Some days,” she added, “I think about going too.”
[5] Then I sat and cried. It was the worst kind of crying. The kind that hurts your chest and steals your breath. And no one could hear me.
[6] Everything moved so slowly. Each breath she took lasted an eternity. And every time she felt like she was returning from the ocean in which she was drowning, a riptide reared up and dragged her back into the deep. But she was okay.
[7] Let's go play under an open autumn sky. Summer is over, but time still goes by. Let's run into tomorrow with our fingers entwined, This is yet another season for you to be mine.
[8] Someone asked me the other day if my glass was half empty or half full. I was going to say it's empty, but that's not completely true. My life isn't void and I have my happy moments, but they usually just seem to disappear, or get worse. So, my glass is cracked, yes -- cracked. It gets filled up with happiness and hope, but it always ends up escaping my grasp. It always ends up emptying out. It will never be full because it's always leaking. And one day, it will be thrown away, because no one wants a broken glass.
[9] Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people in the whole world. I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside. Inside them they’ve all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid worlds. Not just one world; hundreds of them, maybe thousands.
[10] We’ve all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time, and heard damn poets urging us to seize the day. Still sometimes, we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today’s possibility under tomorrow’s rug until we can’t anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves.
[11] A sudden change has brought over the breeze, and I'm cold for the first time in months. Keep me warm with your kiss. Keep me warm with your smile and your presence tonight. Please give me one last chance to prove myself, to prove my heart to you. I'm crying out to be in your arms again.
[1] She's sitting in her room again, whispering to twinkling stars in the sky, wondering when they'll come down and spirit her away. She always wishes that she could capture the blue of the sky in her pocket, the feeling she gets when the sun shines through the window and gives everything a golden glow. The way the world seems to melt together when the sun starts to hide away. Shattered hopes on the pavement are mere reflections of her tiny heart, and the glean of satellites soaring across the sky match the faded glow in her eyes.
[2] You closed your eyes. That was the difference. Sometimes you cannot believe what you see, you have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever going to have other people trust you, you must feel that you can trust them too-even when you are in the dark. Even when you're falling.
[3] My expressions beamed like the sunlight in the sky, as if certain the night's blanket would cease to cover us twice. For this was a first time of many long sunsets, in which I desired for the second to last forever.
[4] I hate how you sit there and act like you know me. Let's get this straight. You used to know me. And you remember what happened with that situation? See, that girl you used to know… she left. Just like you did.
[5] She's the self-preserved, pretty but doesn't know it kind of girl, reading her books and day dreaming all day. While he's the outgoing, spontaneous, gorgeous boy with the most amazing eyes you'll ever see. They grew up from two different worlds and he'll teach her how to stand up to those who look down to her and she'll teach him how to love and know the true meaning of jealousy. While he teachers her the same without knowing it. He'll teacher her how to shout at the world without a wince because his hand is holding tightly around hers, letting her know he will never leave her, causing her to forget her fears for everything and just being able to live for once without worry.
[6] It's amazing what one person can do. Some people build you up just to bend and break you. Some people bring out parts of you that you had no clue existed. All throughout life, we meet people and every single one of them brings something to us, gives us some sort of purpose. We come across people that will hurt us so incredibly much that it seems unbearable to go on with our lives, but the truth is, we can overcome anything we want to if we believe in it enough, if we have faith in ourselves, in who we are. The most important thing in life is to find yourself. Know who you are at all times and stand by that for the rest of your life. No one has to the right to tell you who you are and control your life, 'cause it's yours. Your life is meant to be lived by no one else but yourself. We sometimes let people get the best of us, destroy us and change our opinions on what we believe is true. Only you know what's right for yourself. You have the power, you make the choices and you learn. Each experience we go through in a life is a lesson to be learned. We all make mistakes. Why is that so hard for some to understand? No one should be judged by the mistakes they have made. It's past news. Everything happens for a reason, and without the hard times, how would we ever realize our true strength? It's only through a time of suffering when we realize how strong we truly are inside, when we realize how much we can actually put up with and deal with before we eventually break.
[7] I know a girl who cries when she practices violin because each note sounds so pure it just cuts into her, and then the melody comes pouring out her eyes. Now, to me, everything else just sounds like a lie.
[8] It seems like just yesterday we would stay up late out on your front lawn talking about where we've been and all the places we're going. We would lose track of time watching cars pass us by and I would sneak back home before the sunrise, and how every day would seem so long and every night could go on.
[9] Love is the scars on your knees, the leftover food in the refrigerator, the song the birds sing, the pain you inflict, the sweet nothingness which flutters from your lover's mouth, a half-complete cigarette, diet coke which fizzles on your tongue, the rainbow sprinkles on your cupcake, the battered package you received in the mail the other day, the sound of wind escaping through a small gap in your window, the dampness in your hair, the chipped red varnish on your fingernails, your grandmother's musical box, the ballet shoes you've had since you were five, the music playing on your car stereo, the flaky paint on your walls, the bubblegum stuck under desks, the tooth-fairy, your hands and the things you can make with them, the kisses you blow, the clothes you wear, 5 a.m. morning breath, your sensitive teeth, the tingly feeling you get when you get touched at certain parts of your body, the tangles in your lover's hair, sleepless nights, overdosing on painkillers, undeserved success and recognition, telling lies and not getting caught, blacking out from consuming too much alcohol, being desired by multiple parties, solving a mathematical problem, watching the people around you, watching the people fucking up around you, screaming out of your window in the middle of the night, flaming your lover's ex, make-up sex, smudged mascara, disheveled hair and smeared lipstick, the coffee and bagel you digest on a daily basis, little children, silence, recyclable materials, trees, photosynthesis, growth, development. No. Love is you, I, and a careless mixture of everything else we worry about
[10] No one worries, unless I worry, and I am not worried.
1] Down the road the sun is shining. In every cloud there's a silver lining.
Just keep holding on.
Every heartache makes you stronger, and it won't be much longer.
You'll find love, you'll find peace, and the you you're meant to be.
I know right now thats not the way you feel,
But one day you will.
(Lady Antebellum, One Day You Will)
[2] The moon. You don't normally think about it and it doesn't really serve a purpose. But still, from time to time, you look up at it, and it makes you feel better.
[3] If you woke up breathing, congratulations; you have another chance.
[4] Have you ever thought that if one thing hadn't happened, a whole set of things never would have either? Like dominoes in time, a single event kicked off an unstoppable series of changes that gained momentum and spun out of control, and nothing was ever the same again. Don't ever doubt that a mere second can change your life forever.
[5] Your ashes must be blowing everywhere, cause I could still feel you, and you're nowhere near. And though you didn't say so, I can tell that you still care. We could've had it all, but then nothing is fair. I still think about washing your hair. I wish I could've washed away all of your despair.
[6] So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
(Isaiah 41:10)
It always rains the hardest on those who deserve the sun"
[1] Inside the snow globe on my father's desk, there was a penguin wearing a red-and-white-striped scarf. When I was little my father would pull me into his lap and reach for the snow globe. He would turn it over, letting all the snow collect on the top, then quickly invert it. The two of us watched the snow fall gently around the penguin. The penguin was alone in there, I thought, and I worried for him. When I told my father this, he said, "Don't worry, Susie; he has a nice life. He's trapped in a perfect world."
Before, they had never found themselves broken together. Usually, it was one needing the other but not both needing each other, so there had been a way, by touching, to borrow from the stronger one's strength. And they had never understood, as they did now, what the word horror meant.
The shadow of years was not as big on his small body. He knew I was away, but when people left they always came back.
He knew that no one ever really looked the way they did in photos. He knew he didn't look as wild or as frightened as he did in his own. He came to realize something as he stared at my photo- that it was not me. I was in the air around him, I was in the quiet time he spent alone between studying. I was the girl he had chosen to kiss. He wanted, somehow, to set me free. He didn't want to burn my photo or toss it away, but he didn't want to look at me anymore, either.
I saw the tremor. The inside shakeoff of her heart. She was getting so good the cracks and fissures were smaller and smaller. Soon, like a sleight-of-hand trick perfected, no one would see her do it. She could shut out the whole world, including herself
He was beginning to understand: you were treated special and, later, something horrible would be told to you.
Each time I told my story, I lost a bit, the smallest drop of pain. It was that day that I knew I wanted to tell the story of my family. Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun; it cannot be contained.
I knew something as I watched: almost everyone was saying goodbye to me. I was becoming one of the many little-lost-girls. They would go back to their homes and put me to rest, a letter from the past never reopened or reread. And I could say goodbye to them, wish them well, bless them somehow for their good thoughts. A handshake in the street, a dropped item picked up and retrieved and handed back, or a friendly wave from a distant window, a nod, a smile, a moment when the eyes lock over the antics of a child
We both listened together to the rain pour down and the thunder clap and smelled the earth rising to greet us. "You look invincible"
She no longer looked haunted, as she had in high school, but still, if you looked closely at her eyes you could see the skittery rabbit energy that often made people nervous. She had an expression of someone who was constantly on the lookout for something or someone who hadn't yet arrived. Her whole body seemed to slant forward in inquiry, and though she had been told at the bar where she worked that she had beautiful hair or beautiful hands or, on the rare occasions when any of her patrons saw her come out from behind the bar, beautiful legs, people never said anything about her eyes.
She no longer believed in talk. It never rescued anything. She had come to believe in time alone.
I thought of the game Lindsey and I had played in the yard together: "he loves me, he loves me not" picked out on a daisy's petals. I could hear the clock casting my own two greatest wishes back to me in this same rhythm: "Die for me, don't die for me,." I could not help myself, it seemed, as I tore at his weakening heart. If he died, I would have him forever. Was this so wrong to want?
He could see glimmers, like the colored flecks inside her eyes- things to hold on to. These he counted among the broken planks and boards of a long-ago ship that had struck something greater than itself and sunk. There were only remnants and artifacts left to him now.
Overnight, their world had changed. It was that simple.
You and me, we've got everything we need. I'm not seeking shelter from no God-forsaken storm, Just lay with me tonight and keep me warm. Freckles on your arms, I pretend they're stars, And find new constellations right beneath my hands. I don't know, where the next six months will go, But I'm sure sunrise tomorrow will be better than the one before
What's worse than wanting something you can't have? It's not knowing what you want. Wishing on all the stars in the sky for the answers to your questions, for something to believe in... someone to hold. Having absolutely no control over yourself, being caught up in a place you wish you were miles away from. Being stuck somewhere between the past and the future, nowhere near where you should be - in the present. Stuck in yesterdays and tomorrows, so far from home, far from everything you know and love. The uncertainty could just tear you to bits.
This is for the girls who don't always win, who stay up all night listening to music that inspires them to do things next to impossible--the girls that laugh, smile, and cry all on a daily basis--the girls who like, learn and regret--the girls who may never have it easy--the girls who learn the hard way and live to tell about it.
I think I'd be better off without you here. And I bet you're sweet and hard to get over. So, I'll cry and people will stop and stare. Now, that is okay. Let them stop and stare because I'm fragile, and I'm hopeless, and I'm not perfect, but I'm free.
I was once afraid of people saying, "Who does she think she is?" Now I have the courage to stand and say, "This is who I am."
The simplest questions are the most profound. Where were you born? Where is your home? Where are you going? What are you doing? Think about these and watch your answers change.
It’s amazing, some people, they just say these small little things, one sentence and it changes the way you feel about them in an instant. Small little words that can hurt you so much or make you fall deeply in love forever. It changes everything; nothing between you is ever really the same again, even if they don’t know it.
When i was a girl my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog followed a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calendar that showed the wrong month. I cried over it. I spent my life learning to feel less.
i kept thinking how much my life in retrospect feels like the moments captured on all the Polaroids. I kept looking at. It’s just this series of flashes, isn’t it? You wander around in the dark and then there’s this flash and something gets caught in the light like a trap. Flash. A memory. Flash. A birthday. Flash. A series of chords on the piano. Flash. She laughs. Flash. A girl in a yellow hat. Flash. A sly smile at the door and a green dress. Flash. Something you should have kept.
Love never dies a natural death. it dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds. It dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
And I'll be here by the ocean
Just waiting for proof that there are sunsets and silhouette dreams
All my sand castles will fall like the ashes of cigarettes
And every wave drags me to see
I would stand here for hours, just to ask God the question
"Is everyone here make believe?"
With a tear in his voice he said, "Son, thats the question"
Does this deafening silence mean nothing to no one but me?
(Mayday Parade, I'll Be The Wings)
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