(Source: clichetumblr)
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
When the night comes And you lay your weary head to rest
No more trials, no tests
When the night comes
You don’t have to be afraid Of any choice that you made
When the night comes Don’t be afraid, you’re only dreaming
Don’t be afraid, you’re only dreaming
When the night comes The headlines read Whatever’s in your dreams
When the night comes And you lay by the one you love
The one who knows you
The things you do
When the night comes Don’t be afraid, you’re only dreaming
Don’t be afraid, you’re only dreaming
When the night comes
And then offhandedly, she asked me why she felt so numb. How the glass shards impaled her and she couldn’t feel a thing. The betrayal didn’t sting as much anymore. She held the mug in her trembling fingers and murmured, “None of this is physical, of course, you understand? It’s something deeper. The pain is a growing, living being, dwelling inside but I’ve grown used to it.” Her gaze met mine in silent stillness as if I held the answers to all her questions, as if I’d experienced all of this before she had.
I looked away nervously and took a sip from my mug of coffee. She once told me I spoke in riddles. I told her everything and nothing.
Is it forever, the pain? A few seconds is enough, a few minutes is enough. And then, like water, you must let it slip away. Hold on to it for too long and you’ll feel nothing else. Not happiness, nor love. Hold on to it for too long and your skin will turn to stone, your bones will turn to metal. You’ll become invincible and emotionless, safe and alone. You’ll find comfort in numbers instead of people, and words from fictional books will loop around your mind and sway you away to secret places. Nothing can harm you then, no one can harm you. But after a while you’ll fall into insanity.
“
Cautiously, I allowed
myself to feel good
at times.
I found moments of
peace in cheap
rooms
just staring at the
knobs of some
dresser
or listening to the
rain in the
dark.
The less I needed
the better I
felt.
Charles Bukowski, “Let It Enfold You” (via atramentum)
(Source: larmoyante)
“Hi. I’m Andrea and I “I wish I was a little bit taller..” can I have a lock of your hair? Or..? 🎶🙆 #victoriassecret #angels #doutzenkroes (Taken with instagram)
Oh my god, she is so cute. They are tall and .. unreal, but Andrea is so prettyyyyyy
“
She stuck a bookmark
in my heart
and walked away.
Saul Williams, from “She” (via jamima-puddle-duck)
Young couple cuddling as they sit down in a hole in the sand while others lie around behind them on a hot Independence Day at the beach. Photo by Ralph Crane, 1949.
(Source: metalfacejay)
