MIDDAY 12:16 P.M. Jeans weather. Long sleeves for the AC. Bike to newsstand, the yogurt place, the good dry cleaner. Try to find appropriate birthday card for J. Unsuccessful. Return to see neighbor has draped his fire escape in Tibetan prayer flags—for the World Cup? Fourth of July? Both?
You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love. Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena.  (via wordsnquotes)

(via hsaptus)

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…and you drink a little too much and try a little too hard. And you go home to a cold bed and think, ‘That was fine’. And your life is a long line of fine. Gillian Flynn (via uglypnis)

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Watch her face when she listens to her favorite song, or when she reads her favorite part of her favorite book, or when she’s watching her favorite movie. You see how happy she is? Try your best to keep her that happy. Unknown (via wet-violet)

(Source: putins-babymama, via desertlungs)

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I’m just tired; I just want the world to be quiet for a bit. Matty Healy (via hajniil)

(via newyorktoparis)

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why do i find myself returning to this chestcase from time to time.
letting the best memories bring me sorrow.
do you think of me from time to time?

9 months have past.
things have changed, we are no longer who we were.
promises we made, does it still stand.
things we shared, is it still there?
keys of your house, still dangling on my chain. 
when i drive pass, i still look up every now and then.
do you do the same when you pass by?

3 years, we shared the sweetest memories in my life.
if i’ve yet to thank you for everything.
here it is, thank you for once being in my life. 
till this date, i’ve nv forgotten about the very night 3 years ago.

its no excuse for not being good with my words because i don’t practice. 
it shouldn’t have been just about me at the very end. 
i forsaken US in pursue for what seemed like a common goal.
only to find that its a one sided wishful thinking.
house, life, kids, dog.
the things i once thought i would have it all with you and you alone.

i find myself staring at your name on my phone.
only to quit the application not being able to find the courage for a simple how are you.
nice new tatts on your shoulder and arm. 
i catch myself missing how it feels to linger my fingers on your skin touching the outline of your tattoos.
how it feels to wake up with you beside me sleeping ever so soundly.
creeping out of bed to go to the toilet trying my best not to wake you up. 
being in the same room as the two things that were my everything. 
you being in my face, trying to get a whiff of my morning face. 
me smelling your hair, your face, and your ever nice smelling pits.

good day my old friend. till we meet again. 

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