After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn…
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure…

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth…

And you learn and learn…

With every good-bye you learn.

(Source: juanitacashhawkins, via vaganja)

Just want someone to tell you that NYC don’t have stars because you put them in your eyes. And even when the sun start to rise, you still got night time on your skin. Nothing like a good time lover to delve into your mind and come out revived. Like you got the shine that’ll make heads spin. Like you have the answers to all of our questions on your lips. Let me ask you something. Do you believe love can win? Or is it just another thing to get over or through by getting under someones skin. All this time, the world revolving, you think the Sun ever said Hi? Have you ever kissed the sky? You got that kind of mouth. Like she slipped you her secrets when her blue touched your lips; and her magic trickled down your neck. You got a smile that the sky herself is in love with. You’re just something special. You just want someone to tell you that you bring something different. Something like magic. Something like passion.

(Source: ecstvsyinlove)

Every person I’ve ever worked for has always treated me like a princess. I’ve never had a negative experience that would make me not want to work there anymore. Even the seemingly “bad” moments were never, ever that bad at all. Everyone’s always told me how lucky I am to be employed by such great individuals and I’ve always known how fortunate I really am. I know not every employer is going to treat me as well as I’ve been treated in the past but I absolutely refuse to work in a hostile environment. I don’t deal with assholes. I just don’t. I can’t perform up to my full potential. I can’t function at all. I take everything personally and everything around me becomes hell and I just need to get out or lash out. There’s far too many better opportunities out there than for me to subject myself to indecency. This probably means I’m a little immature and not ready for the “real world” but at the end of the day, I’m not going to work for someone who treats me any less than how I deserve to be treated. Maybe the whole word isn’t butterflies and cupcakes and shit but I won’t subject myself to a negative working environment when it comes to my career and I shouldn’t have to.

Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or make love at four in the afternoon. They might not sleep at all. Or they might sleep right through the alarm and forget to get you up for work. Or call you home from work to kill a spider. Or refuse to speak to you after finding out you’ve never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. Or spend the last of the rent money on five kinds of soap. Or sell your textbooks for cash halfway through the semester. Or leave you love notes in your pockets. Or wash you pants with Post-It notes in the pockets so your laundry comes out covered in bits of wet paper. They might cry if the Post-It notes are unread all over your pants. It’s an unpredictable life.

But what happens if a writer falls in love with you?

This is a little more predictable. You will find your hemp necklace with the glass mushroom pendant around the neck of someone at a bus stop in a short story. Your favorite shoes will mysteriously disappear, and show up in a poem. The watch you always wear, the watch you own but never wear, the fact that you’ve never worn a watch: they suddenly belong to characters you’ve never known. And yet they’re you. They’re not you; they’re someone else entirely, but they toss their hair like you. They use the same colloquialisms as you. They scratch their nose when they lie like you. Sometimes they will be narrators; sometimes protagonists, sometimes villains. Sometimes they will be nobodies, an unimportant, static prop. This might amuse you at first. Or confuse you. You might be bewildered when books turn into mirrors. You might try to see yourself how your beloved writer sees you when you read a poem about someone who has your middle name or prose about someone who has never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. These poems and novels and short stories, they will scatter into the wind. You will wonder if you’re wandering through the pages of some story you’ve never even read. There’s no way to know. And no way to erase it. Even if you leave, a part of you will always be left behind.

If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.

(Source: karenfelloutofbedagain, via chahlie)

Call me “old school”, “old-fashioned”, whatever, but there’s a certain beauty to being faithful. It’s depressing to think that once being faithful was the norm, now it’s a characteristic one has to search for in a significant other; it’s no longer a given. What’s even more depressing is that people put up with someone being unfaithful, they settle. What ever happened to empowerment? To knowing your worth and acting accordingly. Being faithful surpasses just merely focusing your attention on one woman, it signifies loyalty, another trait that is far too often absent in other people. I think that’s one of the truest signs of maturity & lack of gluttony, having the ability to be content & at peace with ONE woman.

Being faithful is deeper than not having any physical relations with a person other than your significant other, it extends to not sharing the same emotional connection you devote to someone with another. In my opinion, being emotionally unfaithful is far more painful than being physically unfaithful. To know that what seemed like personalized sentiments, and original thoughts and words were unique to you and no else, have been shared with another person, that hurts. It hurts deep. Physical attraction cannot even begin to scratch the surface of importance that emotional attraction has. You can not be in love with someone you’re merely physically attracted to, you can only be “in like.” That physical attraction can easily be forgotten and misplaced; it’s the emotional attraction that resonates deep.

There’s a certain underestimated and under-appreciated beauty in being faithful. To make that commitment to be physically and emotionally connected with someone and to not share it with anyone else, is beautiful. There is no monetary value that can be placed upon being physically and emotionally devoted to one soul.

(Source: femmefatalex, via biscuitsandbangers)