“If memories could be canned, would they also have expiry dates? If so, I hope they last for centuries”
Chungking Express (1994)Kar Wai Wong

If memories could be canned, would they also have expiry dates? If so, I hope they last for centuries”

Chungking Express (1994)
Kar Wai Wong

(Source: fohk)

Don’t think about what can happen in a month. Don’t think about what can happen in a year. Just focus on the 24 hours in front of you and do what you can to get closer to where you want to be.
If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts; but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.

(Source: persemprealsegreto)

Growing up I always thought true love was red roses, dates on Saturday nights, little block box that held expensive things, and always knowing what to say. I thought true love was a kiss in the rain, deep explanations, and the perfect story. But now that I’m older I’ve realized it’s not like that at all.

See because true love for me is ugly snapchats, and peeing while you’re on the phone. True love is kissing at 6 AM despite the morning breath and singing at the top of your lungs. It’s saying all the wrong things, at all the wrong moments. It’s sarcasm and being honest even when it hurts. It’s late hours of the night when it’s been a long day and it’s no make up and bad hair. It’s tears from laughter, it’s tears from sadness and it’s nothing like any storybook you’ve ever read. It’s never running out of things to talk about, and it’s being comfortable in the silence of things. True love is watching The Titanic though you swore you never would. It’s getting mad over stupid things. It’s “you’re an idiot,” and “you’re a little shit” and knowing you’re so lucky to hear those every day. It’s spilling your feelings at 4 AM when you should be asleep. It’s that song you hear on the radio that always makes you smile. It’s the worst story you could imagine, but thank God it worked out anyways. True love is never losing the magic. True love is not leaving when things get hard.

I like my definition better anyways.

The true mark of maturity is when somebody hurts you and you try to understand their situation instead of trying to hurt them back.
I’m not fascinated by people who smile all the time. What I find interesting is the way people look when they are lost in thought, when their face becomes angry or serious, when they bite their lip, the way they glance, the way they look down when they walk, when they are alone and smoking a cigarette, when they smirk, the way they half smile, the way they try and hold back tears, the way when their face says they want to say something but can’t, the way they look at someone they want or love… I love the way people look when they do these things. It’s… beautiful.

stolenwine:

Fall in love with
the sound of her
voice before
anything else;

it will be the first
thing you will lose
when she is
gone.

Be aware that anytime today when you read something, hear something or see something you should take a second to remind yourself that the odds are it is a fabrication, one that is either so brazen and titanic in its scope that you cannot believe anyone would expect you to fall for it (thus giving it a weird kind of credibility) or so plausible in its larger details that you fail to notice that certain less significant aspects of it are full of falsehood. These lies, both large and small, aim to take advantage of the innate trust we are all born with as human beings and somehow maintain even as we wend our way through a world riddled with deceit and prevarication. They use our basic decency as a Trojan horse, and once they are welcome inside our heads they do what they can to manipulate us, to make us follow the rules they give us and buy the things they want us to buy and go about our miserable lives without the hope or realization that everything could—and should—be better. Do not forget: Every single thing you see today is a lie. Also it is April Fools’ Day, so there’s gonna be a lot of other stupid shit cluttering things up too.
Why didn’t I learn to treat everything like it was the last time. My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.
All I wanted was to receive the love I gave.

Will I be something?
Am I something?

And the answer comes:
You already are.
You always were.
And you still have time to be.

When someone is crying, of course, the noble thing to do is to comfort them. But if someone is trying to hide their tears, it may also be noble to pretend you do not notice them.
Sometimes I feel nostalgic over something I haven’t lost yet because I see it’s transience. So how does one respond to this? Do we love harder? Do we squeeze tighter? Or do we embrace the Buddhist creed of no attachment; do we we pretend not to care that everything and everyone we know is going to be taken away from us? I don’t know if I can accept that. I side more with the Dylan Thomas quote, ‘I will not go quietly into that good night, but instead rage against the dying of light!’ We defy entropy and impermanence with our films and our poems. We hold onto each other a little harder and say, ‘I will not let go! I do not accept the ephemeral nature of this moment. I’m going to extend it…forever…or at least I’m going to try.’