And you tried to change, didn’t you? Closed your mouth more. Tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake… You can’t make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that. And if he wants to leave, then let him leave. You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.

Warsan Shire, For Women Who Are Difficult To Love   (via dandelion-days)

Growing apart doesn’t change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I’m glad for that.

Ally Condie (via baileyb-o-o)

An Existential Crisis on a February Morning

One day, my body will stop working. My mouth will open or my nostrils will flare and I will breathe in my last breath of oxygenated air. That air bubble will travel to my heart who will, for the last time, steal the oxygen and send the carbon on it’s departing flight out of my vessel. My heart will drum it’s last lub-dub, and blood will be pumped through my arteries and veins to my vital organs like children taking one last ride down the waterslide.

Then, everything will stop.

My organs will shut down, my heart will stop pumping. My brain will go dead. My body- my shell- will be like a car on the side of the road with a dead engine; useless.

But what about my thoughts, my ideas? Where will be? Surely, I won’t be trapped in the cage of my cranial skull, in the depths of my brain. What will I look like? Will I be happy? Will I see my family and friends? Will have any regrets? Will I wish I would have prayed more laughed more sang more eaten more lived more more more more?

Working rightly, the brain is the highest form of “instinctual wisdom.” Thus it should work like the homing instinct of pigeons and the formation of the fetus in the womb — without verbalizing the process or knowing “how” it does it. The self-conscious brain, like the self-conscious heart, is a disorder, and manifests itself in the acute feeling of separation between “I” and my experience. The brain can only assume its proper behavior when consciousness is doing what it is designed for: not writhing and whirling to get out of present experience, but being effortlessly aware of it.

Alan Watts, born 99 years ago today, on happiness, the anxiety of insecurity, and how to live with presence (via explore-blog)

God I want you
in some primal, wild way
animals want each other.
Untamed and full of teeth.

God I want you,
In some chaste, Victorian way.
A glimpse of your ankle
just kills me.

Clementine von Radics, Want  (via dandelion-days)