There is innocence in a monster; I would say.

Writing had never felt so good.

When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth.

Jess C. Scott, The Intern
(via feellng)

(via shannnes)

Sometimes, people use insults as a way of flirting. Pretending to hate someone they actually desire to be with.

—(via psych-facts)

pinkelastik:

vira-sana:

You are allowed to grieve the years you lost to mental illness. You’re allowed to be mad that it happened to you. You’re allowed to pine after the person you might have been had it been different. But don’t let that get in the way of your growing into your new self and following a wholly new path for your life.

I hadn’t realised how much I needed to hear this.

(Source: acheloi-s, via nirvana-wisdom)

Nací de un útero. Nací de una mujer. Nací guerrera y libre. Fui cocida con fuego de amor en el seno de la Madre y me formaron las manos artistas del Creador. Puso en mi cuerpo pechos y caderas amplias, piel suave y pies ligeros. Nací mujer valiente y pura. Vive en mí la luna y las estrellas moran en mi vientre. Soy amor y ternura, consuelo y refugio. Soy mujer viento, mujer agua, mujer tierra, mujer fuego, mujer medicina, mujer sol. Soy mujer guerrera, mujer niña, mujer joven, mujer madura, mujer vieja. Me trenzo las penas, me peino con aire y olvido tristezas. Soy mujer, amante, mala, buena, tierna. Soy los cuatro rumbos, las estaciones, las siembras. Soy mujer y sangre con olor a hierbas que corre por mis venas. Danzo, canto, escribo, amo… Soy mujer, mujer con todas la letras.

Hablando con Pericos, Mercedes Reyes Arteaga (via nomatteronly-soul)

(Source: la-chica-de-adamantium, via imagineriacaleidoscopica)

Nací de un útero. Nací de una mujer. Nací guerrera y libre. Fui cocida con fuego de amor en el seno de la Madre y me formaron las manos artistas del Creador. Puso en mi cuerpo pechos y caderas amplias, piel suave y pies ligeros. Nací mujer valiente y pura. Vive en mí la luna y las estrellas moran en mi vientre. Soy amor y ternura, consuelo y refugio. Soy mujer viento, mujer agua, mujer tierra, mujer fuego, mujer medicina, mujer sol. Soy mujer guerrera, mujer niña, mujer joven, mujer madura, mujer vieja. Me trenzo las penas, me peino con aire y olvido tristezas. Soy mujer, amante, mala, buena, tierna. Soy los cuatro rumbos, las estaciones, las siembras. Soy mujer y sangre con olor a hierbas que corre por mis venas. Danzo, canto, escribo, amo… Soy mujer, mujer con todas la letras.

Hablando con Pericos, Mercedes Reyes Arteaga (via nomatteronly-soul)

(Source: la-chica-de-adamantium, via imagineriacaleidoscopica)

There were no sex classes. No friendship classes. No classes on how to navigate a bureaucracy, build an organization, raise money, create a database, buy a house, love a child, spot a scam, talk someone out of suicide, or figure out what was important to me. Not knowing how to do these things is what messes people up in life, not whether they know algebra or can analyze literature.

—William Upski Wimsatt  (via bakkyun)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via buddhacoffee)

Songs are as sad as the listener.

—Jonathan Safran Foer (via psych-facts)

There’s a reason why men are called the opposite sex. Women think with their hearts, following an innate sense of judgement and intuition. Men employ logic and straightforward rationality to make decisions. Opposites attract and we were made to complement each other with our unique differences. It’s not easy, that’s for sure; you only need to look at a couple having an argument to see that. When guys approach an emotional issue, men maintain a level head and search for the root cause — and that is why men are not much help when you’re having a crisis. You’re looking for support and someone to agree with you wholeheartedly, while your boyfriend is immediately analysing and seeking a solution to your problem.