extremely loud/incredibly close

Damien Rice, Rootless Trees.

C.S. Lewis  (via ineedyoursoul)

(Source: crackedbones, via followthatmermaid)

(via fypblog)

After numerous reblogs of pictures, songs, words, and the word of God being scrawled on my tumblr page, I finally found the words that I’ve been trying to say.

This whole moving on to a new place, a new life thing, I’m finally used to it. I miss school, the people, the faces, somewhat of the routine. There’s something bittersweet about going back to your past, meeting the friends you used to see everyday for the past two years. Went back to the JC today, and there wasn’t much love left, or perhaps you could say a different kind of love.

It’s just different. The lack of familiarity, everything felt cold. Cold, awkward, distant. As if we were never there. I can’t see the place in the same way anymore. Everything’s been worn out, as emotions were. They used to run high, run dry. We used to run to each other when the day turned out good or bad.

We aren’t there anymore, nothing we left is.

I’ve gone past the phase of holding on, griping about how everyone’s so busy with their lives because I’m busy with mine too. I pick my battles, my friends, my circumstances when I can. There’s this calm in uncertainty, some sort of happiness that seems to be weaved intricately into it.

I tell myself, maybe it’s God. Maybe He’s telling me that putting the past down and moving on isn’t being a bad person, rather it’s part of growing up. I look back and realised how wilful I was and within a couple of months people have told me that I’ve grown and matured. Perhaps it’s due to the distancing from the past and all the relationships that I thought meant the world to me.

I can’t love them in the same capacity as I could when we were kids. Things have changed. Times have changed. Everything’s different. And yet I’m not startled by this change, rather I’m happy.

Happy that I’ve found my feet,
in perhaps the smallest ways one can do so.

heisjealousforme:

amyjowisehart:slylikeafox:hennnypotter:

Jorge Narvaez and his daughter Alexa cover Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros’s “Home”.

this may actually be the most precious thing I’ve ever seen

(Source: youtube.com)

Tom Hansen, 500 Days of Summer.

semiclosure:

Zomg (Y)

(Source: chelo-gleek)

StoryPeople Products: Kindred Spirits (via ohkaleidoscope)

(via ohkaleidoscope)

bell hooks, Teaching Community: A Pedagogy of Hope

truth is often fucked. :/

(via adailyriot)

Same goes for women etc. Normalization of the white, straight, male, point-of-view makes it seem like it’s neutrality.

(via somerset)

hmm.

(via herfreudianslip)

(via herfreudianslip)

We fight to be ourselves all the time;
sometimes to the point where we forget who we truly are
in the midst of fighting.