"the year of letting go
of understanding loss, grace of the word ‘no’
and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’
the year of humanity/humility
when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed
everyone i’ve met this year says the same thing
‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’
the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands
the year i learnt small talk
and how to smile at strangers
the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’
the year of sugar, everywhere
softness. sweetness. honey honey.
the year of being alone
and learning how much i like it
the year of hugging people i don’t know because i want to know them
the year i made peace and love
right here"
— Warsan Shire of understanding loss, grace of the word ‘no’
and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’
the year of humanity/humility
when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed
everyone i’ve met this year says the same thing
‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’
the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands
the year i learnt small talk
and how to smile at strangers
the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’
the year of sugar, everywhere
softness. sweetness. honey honey.
the year of being alone
and learning how much i like it
the year of hugging people i don’t know because i want to know them
the year i made peace and love
right here"
(via commovente)
"I’d like to live Elsewhere.
In hand-embroidered towns.
To meet those
who are not born into the world.
At last we would be happily alone.
No stop would wait for us.
No arrival. No departure.
Evanescence in a museum.
No wars would fight for us.
No humanity. No army. No weapon.
Tipsy death. It would be fun.
In the library a multi-volume time.
Love. A mad chapter.
It would turn the pages of our hearts in a whisper."
— Ewa Lipska, from “Elsewhere”, translated by Robin Davidson and Ewa Elżbieta NowakowskaIn hand-embroidered towns.
To meet those
who are not born into the world.
At last we would be happily alone.
No stop would wait for us.
No arrival. No departure.
Evanescence in a museum.
No wars would fight for us.
No humanity. No army. No weapon.
Tipsy death. It would be fun.
In the library a multi-volume time.
Love. A mad chapter.
It would turn the pages of our hearts in a whisper."
(Source: mitochondria)
"Fox was the only living man. There was no earth. The water was everywhere. “What shall I do,” Fox asked himself. He began to sing in order to find out.
“I would like to meet somebody,” he sang to the sky.
Then he met Coyote.
“I thought I was going to meet someone,” Fox said.
“Where are you going?” Coyote asked.
“I’ve been wandering all over trying to find someone. I was worried there for awhile.”
“Well, it’s better for two people to go together…that’s what they always say.”
“O.K. But what will we do?”
“I don’t know.”
“I got it! Let’s try and make the world.”
“And how are we going to do that?” Coyote asked.
“Sing!” said Fox."
— Jaime de Angulo
“I would like to meet somebody,” he sang to the sky.
Then he met Coyote.
“I thought I was going to meet someone,” Fox said.
“Where are you going?” Coyote asked.
“I’ve been wandering all over trying to find someone. I was worried there for awhile.”
“Well, it’s better for two people to go together…that’s what they always say.”
“O.K. But what will we do?”
“I don’t know.”
“I got it! Let’s try and make the world.”
“And how are we going to do that?” Coyote asked.
“Sing!” said Fox."
"I’ve had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can’t quite make out what it is. It takes time."
— Screams from the balcony, Charles Bukowski (Source: henrycharlesbukowski, via ambling)
