(via loveyourchaos)
About
twenty-two years old, girl, catalan. nostalgic, obsessive, emotionally sensitive and freckled. small-town kind of girl. journalism student, spent a year in germany. passionate photography lover. frantic book reader. addicted to tea and coffee, chocolate cereals and caramel cookies. loves fruit and vegetables, mandarins and peaches. runner, brown belt judoka and occasional swimmer. loves rain as much as bright, sunny days.
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Louis Garrel
The Dreamers
Director: Bernardo Bertolucci
2003
"You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken."
—
(via maybeimametaphor) (via undocumented-change) (via readbooks) (via booklover)
by Anaïs Nin.
(via thesecharmingmen)
"Just a year ago I would have danced so crazy
and now I think I wanna get back on that track
if I only could relax in this confusion
if I could dance with you the way we used to
and shake my hips to the revolution
if I could be naive again…"
and now I think I wanna get back on that track
if I only could relax in this confusion
if I could dance with you the way we used to
and shake my hips to the revolution
if I could be naive again…"
— A Man from Argentina by Billie the Vision & The Dancers
"I didn’t know what hate felt like, not the hate that comes after love. It’s huge and desperate and it longs to be proved wrong. And every day it’s proved right it grows a little more monstrous. If the love was passion, the hate will be obsession. A need to see the once-loved weak and cowed beneath pity. Disgust is close and dignity is far away. The hate is not only for the once loved, it’s for yourself too; how could you ever have loved this?"
— Jeanette Winterson (via restartmyheart)
"Watching you walk out of my life didn’t make me bitter or cynical about love, but has rather made me realize that if I wanted to be with the wrong person so bad, how beautiful it would be when the right one comes along."
— (via smileformesugar) (via splitroads)
Why He’s Hot:
- That French boy air is just too alluring. The accent, the clothes, the hair,.. they all come together so perfectly its all too fucking good to be true. Even those shoes. Look at them. Look. They’re perfect. And his hair’s all tousled and shit. He gives Robert Pattinson a run for his money. It makes you want to shove him on top of that piano and make mad cliche love.
- He is the best of both worlds. He is boyish, but at the same time, incredibly manly and the thought of him just breaking shit all over the house is totally sexy. You know he’s the type that would just do anything for you. Plus he’s got that really wise and experienced look about him, which means he’s damn good in bed. Hell, he’s French. He’s fucking FRENCH. He’s probably the best fuck around. And he’ll whisper sweet french words into your ear that you don’t understand while he’s doing you.
- The scar on his face really adds to the bad-boyish image. It makes him look all tough and in-need-of-love.
- He’s the type that would bring you to a chic cafe in Paris and then feel so overcome by love for you that he can’t even not touch you for 2 minutes. In the end, you end up making love in the bathroom and all is good. He is the epitome of unpredictability and a perfect combination of love and lust.
- He looks timeless and classy. He smokes a cigarette like its nobody’s business. Do I need another fucking reason? No, I didn’t think so.
"I like the stars. It’s the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they’re always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here I can pretend… I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments, gods come and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don’t last; and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But I can pretend."
— ~ Olethros in Sandman (via gatekeeper)
"A woman is often measured by the things she cannot control. She is measured by the way her body curves or doesn’t curve, by where she is flat or straight or round. She is measured by 36-24-36 and inches and ages and numbers, by all the outside things that don’t ever add up to who she is on the inside. And so if a woman is to be measured, let her be measured by the things she can control; by who she is and who she is trying to become. Because as every woman knows, measurements are only statistics and statistics lie."
I want this bike. Perfect for runners.
London was amazing.
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life. You give them a piece of you. They don’t ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like ‘Maybe we should just be friends’ or ‘How very perceptive’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love."
— Neil Gaiman (via littlemiss) (via romantics) (via deconstruct) (via daieny) (via tittysprinkles) (via homecoming) (via embraceyourgrace)
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