It’s not about what you’re capable of, it’s about what you are willing to endure.
I do not feel good. I’ve got the sad sads. All I want to do is fuck you.
Rage is a powerful energy that with diligent practice can be transformed into fierce compassion. However much we disagree with our enemies, our task is to identify with them. They too feel justified in their point of view.
Challenges are what make life interesting and overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.

mikaelaharbowyy:

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder, you get your fill but always keep that hunger

May you never take one single breath for granted, God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean

Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance

& when you get the choice to sit out or dance…

I hope you dance.

-L.Womack

Children must be taught how to think, not what to think.
Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don’t belong.
When you are your own best friend, you don’t endlessly seek out relationships, friendships, and validation from the wrong sources because you realize that the only approval and validation you need is your own.
First love is scary because it’s like “holy crap, why is this person the first thing I think of in the morning, why am I disappointed when I don’t dream of them? Why is the desire to be with them so much stronger than hunger and thirst and exhaustion? Why does their name look so pretty written down? Why do I feel like I just fell out of a 30 story building when they look at me, and why do I like it?” And you become so comfortable with them that when they leave, your body doesn’t know how to react because they were as common to you as breathing, and now you’re missing a vital part of yourself. You forget that you were someone before them. You think “I was so empty until I met them.” No, you were full. And when you learned about love, you were fuller. Now you’re back to where you were before, and you need to fill yourself with other things. Fall in love with the way sunflowers naturally curve to face the sun, and the way children have no idea about taxes. Fall in love with the fact that you’re here and you’re still able to feel. Fall in love with the idea that you’re still whole, even when it’s 3 am and you can’t remember how to breathe because you think they taught you how to do that.

I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, “Kiss me harder,” and “You’re a good person,” and, “You brighten my day.” I live my life as straight-forward as possible.

Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.

Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.

But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.

And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.

We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.

We never know when the bus is coming.

Missing you comes in waves.

Tonight I’m drowning.

amymeows:

Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there—on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

- Carl Sagan (1934-1996) Pale Blue Dot

(Source: aboutc)

ilovekartoffeln:

Bless this man

(Source: vagabondedlife)

A secret to happiness is letting every situation be what it is instead of what you think it should be, and then making the best of it.