sudden, punch-in-the-gut startling, longing for Autumn. 

varietas:

© Ata Kando: Together in the train, Paris

I want to choose everything. I want to drown in choices.
I want to choose where I live, want to choose what language I speak, I want to choose who I love and how. I want to choose who to become and I want to choose to not remember certain things and make up others.
I want to choose what kind of loneliness I can bear, and what kind of fears I get to keep. I want to choose the shade of happiness I prefer and I want to choose how late into the night is too late. I want to choose to leave everything behind if I think it’s best and I want to not feel guilty all the time for wanting to choose these things.
I want to erase all the things I didn’t choose and then choose them again if I see it fit. Or choose the complete opposite. I want to reinvent things, and myself mostly and be more and be less and be everything and nothing.
I want. All the time. 

All I can write about right now is heartbreak and longing. Sentences like:

I never loved you more than when you walked away, the sky molten gold on your back.

or

I kept staring at your lips, all red and bruised from my kissing, at the fascinating shade of blue the shadows under you eyes had.

or

The sound of the key in the lock, final and clear in the silence, the only sound I will ever truly remember.

or

I wish I had learned to say goodbyes. As it were, I was only good at being the one receiving them.

or

I wasn’t trying to be cruel, I was only trying to save the pieces left of me, before you trampled on them with your boots. All I did, though, was trampled on yours.

interieure:

Arigato (by minou*)

What do I want?
I just want to live and not feel miserable too often. And love. Love everything.

overdosage:

Vancouver

Sometimes, I think that my desire to get rid of my accent is so people don’t know that I’m not a native English speaker. Like, sometimes, I have this weird desire of wanting to erase where I come from. I don’t want people to know that my first language is not English. I want to change my name, and I want to live far away. 
And it’s not because I’m ashamed of it or anything. I just want my self to be built of only things I have chosen.

I don’t know. Sometimes, I don’t understand this strong desire people have to stick to their “roots”, the expectations to always carry this cultural baggage with you.
I like being uprooted.

I don’t know.  

(via ALEXANDRA LEVASSEUR © 2012)

(I like this. Anybody know who the artist is? See? that’s why it’s so frustrating when people don’t credit)

ETA: The Artist is Alexandra Levasseur (thanks jarofstars!)

(Source: filmandfreespirit)

I feel very…violent these days.

I see a pretty person that makes my insides turn, I want to punch them in the face. How dare they be so beautiful. I talk to SleepyBear on Skype, I want to smash his face on his keyboard because I miss him too much. How dare he do this to me. I read a particularly good story, I want to shred it into pieces, or throw it across the room. How dare it be so well-written and remind me of my inadequacy. I hear a song that moves my heart, I want to break my iPod in two. How dare it make me cry.

How dare anything or anybody make me feel so much.
I am leaking everywhere.

But it’s a good thing. I just really really want to punch something too. 

tiredskin:

Anna Hollow

You don’t have to get a job that makes others feel comfortable about what they perceive as your success. You don’t have to explain what you plan to do with your life. You don’t have to justify your education by demonstrating its financial rewards. You don’t have to maintain an impeccable credit score. Anyone who expects you to do any of those things has no sense of history or economics or science or the arts. You have to pay your own electric bill. You have to be kind. You have to give it all you got. You have to find people who love you truly and love them back with the same truth. But that’s all.

―

Dear Sugar, The Rumpus 

I need to print this out, frame it, and hang it on my wall.

(via theworldsgotmedizzyagain)

I should send this to my dad. 

(Source: cupofchi)