time

the future is simple a subjective term used to describe all the moments
that we believe may or may not exist. the past is simply the moments we
believe to have happened, either through recollection or proof.
so really, there is only now. and this is the only now that exists, but it is
not the only now that will exist. and you, in this now, is everything that
you are and were, and it shows everything that you could be, in it's
infinitive possibilities. so, in this now, when you are reading this, this
is a part of what you are. so, this, will make up a part of everything that
you are and it will affect everything that you could be. simply because there
is only now. and this is the only right now that you will ever have.

if you understand what i mean.
thus, you're part of my right now. because you're reading this.
get it?

mm.

"...that's another one, love. It was great until everyone decided it was time is should become mass-produced. Now ever tom, mary and wannabe robert-browning is scrambling for instant perfection. I however am quite happy to sit in a cafe that no-one likes and write about how terribly terribly sad my romantic ways are in this world of automised and robotisised human emotions by telling someone i'm dating that I, infact, am not in love with them, as i've only been dating them for three months."

thought that was interesting.

wordings

"It was a fifteen-minute streetcar ride to Harvard Square, where on Saturdays I would go to absorb its intellectual, folksy ambiance. I'd sit for hours in a cafe with a pen & a notebook, writing about the human complexities that threatened to flatten me. Helen did not have the sanctuary of notebooks. Writing about her life would have meant acknowledging it."

taken from a book or a magazine or a newspaper article I've long since forgotten the name of.

on growth.

I think people are so caught up in this world we think we're a part of, they forget that sometimes all it takes is a good friend and honest thoughts to find everything they've been missing. the difference between childhood and adulthood, the thing that everyone says they miss, it isn't the innocence, it isn't not worrying:
it's being able to find joy in the littlest things. we forget what it feels like to take our shoes off and walk in mud, just because we can. we view everything as a job. and forget how sometimes, we can be open. we can make mud pies and dip our hands in bags of grain. we can still find breathtaking moments.
we just have to stop, just for one single day, and reach for it.

desire.

"We are not always everything we think we are"

Crossing Lines

"Why is it that when the line between honesty and truth blurs, the line between us and them grows?"

Who are you?

"Usually, being someone [anyone, anybody] isn't enough. You need someone to see you, someone to be you with."