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Al Capone (via haffalump)
Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I am kind to everyone, but when someone is unkind to me, weak is not what you are going to remember about me.
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Woori (via mishproductions)
I don’t want a lukewarm love. I want it to burn my lips and engulf my soul.
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Fyodor Dostoevsky - The Adolescent (via lesocialoutcast)
Because such violent, wild love works like a fit, like a deadly noose, like an illness, and - as soon as you reach satisfaction - the scales fall at once and the opposite feeling appears: disgust and hatred, the wish to exterminate, to crush
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break, nayyirah waheed (via nayyirahwaheed)
cry wild.
you have probably never cried wild.
but, you know what doors
feel like.
you have
an intimacy with doors
that is killing you.
you have probably never cried wild.
but, you know what doors
feel like.
you have
an intimacy with doors
that is killing you.
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Iskandar Widjaja, Violinist (via thischarmlessbroad)
Classical music is so difficult to play and it doesn’t scream as loud as pop for attention. It is a finer language that you need to focus on to appreciate it […]. It certainly takes time to get used to a new language, but this journey is worth it.
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I knew a girl whose father left the family when she was at a young age, so growing up all she did was leave others first, only so she wouldn’t experience being left again. I knew a girl who didn’t want to feel anymore and was tired of life, so she allowed others to ruin her because she didn’t want anything left of her to ruin—but perhaps she had nothing to ruin in the first place. I knew a girl who was lovely and lonely, and she only belonged to herself, but it was only because she had no longer had hope in others. I knew a girl who was still in love with someone she was once with, and she masked the pain and truth by being with others—even though she felt nothing with them. I knew a girl who once met someone that changed absolutely everything and when she discovered that he had nothing to give up, she was torn—afterwards, she tried desperately to find pieces of him in everyone she met, knowing it was hopeless. Regardless of all the stories I’ve heard, observed, and were in, the sadness was still the same in each and every one.
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