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Marina Tsvetaeva, from Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922; “A Hero of Labor”

﹙ Text ID: I’ll cry about this earth in heaven too.﹚

I have not once seen anyone talk about the fact that henry tried to kill charles????? He went for his third murder so casually???? He tried to kill CHARLES????? Guys?????

Normalize never forcing people to choose you. If someone thinks they can get better elsewhere – let them. Respectfully.

This girl enamors me,

Infatuates me to no end.

Her smile,

Her voice,

Her heart,

Her soul,

Everything about her body and her being and her spirit.

What a beautiful thing it is to love women;

What a beautiful thing it is to love her.

– Audrey Hepburn

I am my mother’s daughter. I love someone until I cannot find enough love for myself, I scream into an empty void hoping anyone can hear me and come help, and if they do I won’t accept the help because I am also strong to a fault. I convince myself I need to be strong enough for everyone around me so they won’t fall, but who is there when I fall? My mom and I go in a constant cycle of being there for one another, I cry on her shoulder then within the hour she is crying on mine, we are one in the same. Some days I feel I only have my mom to talk to because we have had similar experiences in the worst ways possible. My mother and I have a trauma bond, we have seen too much together and I am not sure if that helps us or sends us deeper into the darkest pits of our minds. I fear I ruined my mother in some way, she had more going for her before I came along, I wish I could fix it all. I have tried my whole life not to be a carbon copy of my mother, that’s what everyone expected of me, but at the end of the day I am my mother’s daughter. I’m sorry. 

You made me miss out on the most beautiful love.

"Will you free my Palestine"

Sticker spotted in Brunswick, Victoria

Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times? As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells... and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there too.. a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower... both strange and familiar.

- Cornelia Funke, The Inkheart

Rant

You finally walked away from me because of what you did but you still somehow found a way to blame me as always. Nine long years of going back and forth with you, I always hid how I truly felt because I was too busy trying to protect your fragile ego. I still remember the night you had fully decided to leave clear as day no matter the amount of alcohol and weed in my system, anger like that has nothing against my substance abuse of the night. I told you everything you did to me, I told you that you were the worst partner I had ever had in my life and the fact that you are my first love makes me sick. Loving you makes me suicidal, you were a cancer to my life whether or not you want to admit it. I am a completely different person now then who I was at 13 years old, I would never allow someone to treat me the way you did, I wish I would have listened to everyone around me when they told me you were no good but I was too busy loving you, I loved you more than I loved me. You never took accountability for the things you did to me, how your hands touched me in ways a man should never touch a woman. I was never strong enough to walk away from you on my own, I would always try then we would find each other again and the cycle would begin. I beat myself up over loving you, it may be the worst decision I have ever made in my life. I lost people who really loved me because of you, you were alone so you wanted me to be alone, you wanted to be alone together. I could never imagine doing the things you did to a partner, especially if the partner is someone like me. I love too hard, it is a blessing and a curse. I love everyone so deeply it hurts me but some people are worth every ounce of love I give them. I want to hate you, I want to scream from the rooftops how much I hate you, but I’m not strong enough to hate you, I will always love you in some way. I wish you were a better person, but I’m not god, I can’t change you. 

Space

Space was my first love, something about the stars dancing across the night sky made me feel comfort that I was never able to find in my life as a child. Looking into the night sky as I heard their screaming voices and the ceramic dishes hitting the wall I found peace. The moon would take every ounce of darkness out of me and leave me shining like all the stars in the night sky. I spent my childhood praying to see one shooting star so I could wish upon it hoping to take all the negativity away from me, to make everyone happy again. I was naive then, a star couldn’t fix everything that was wrong with them, no matter how hard I wished, but as an adult I still find myself looking to the sky searching for that last bit of hope I have held onto all these years. I will always hope to find a shooting star.