h

g

yy

el amor es una conclusión absoluta porque presupone la muerte, la renuncia a si mismo. la verdadera esencia del amor consiste en renunciar a la conciencia de sí mismo, en olvidarse de sí en otra mismidad

(...)

el amor como conclusión absoluta pasa por la muerte. Ciertamente se muere en el otro, pero a esta muerte  le sigue un retorno hacia sí. 

(...)

el poder de eros implica una impotencia en la que yo, en lugar de afirmarme, me pierdo en el otro o para el otro, que me alienta de nuevo: “un emperador posee por sí mismo a otros. y el amante se apodera de sí mismo por otro, y. cada de los amantes se aleja de sí mismo y se acerca al otro, y muertos en sí, resucitan en el otro”

“You bear within you many past lives, each one complete, autonomous. There are points along the journey when you must stand together with the whole line-up of your previous selves and follow the path they were all leading to. You are destiny-charged in a larger-than-life fashion. Being self-possessed is your watchword. There is so much to accomplish. And at the centre of the journey lies self-knowledge and the overriding determination to clear the karmic slate, to free up what has been trapped and bound and to come to yourself afresh. This destiny-will is guided, cosmically supported, centrally relevant to your whole world, and you will do it. Turn the darkest of hours into the brightest breakthroughs by refusing to stop anywhere or to back down from your resolve to wake up this time and get on with the greater path, at long last.”

source

y

b

b

b

g

v

h

b

im not

free

y

convertir lo que ha sido en objeto de deseo, aniquila el pasado.

h

b

h

h

h

b

the answer is

there's no answer

d

se conforma con la vida eterna

y vuelve a la simplicidad.

Cuando se pierde la simplicidad,

aparecen las personas útiles.

v

g

b

v

h

v

_

con cuánta prudencia hay que medir las palabras!

g

f

g

c

b

v

I hate gatherings.

Today we celebrated my brother’s birthday and the idea was to surprise him with some friends.

I’m like no.

I hid in the kitchen.

Also, when the first 2 arrived I made a joke that I thought of as hilarious because of how little sense it made: they asked me where to go, and I said at the end to the right, when it was at the end to the left.

And then I told them, no haha to the left, actually

when they were halfway

good times
-
update: the gathering ended up being surprisingly nice
I like seeing people interact and get a glimpse of their personalities and their different relationships 

source

One of my favorite things I’ve realized I do lately is whispering when I’m exchanging 'goodbyes' or 'hellos' with someone and they are not within hearing range.

I whisper because, in my mind, that's the volume they are getting. And what do I get? Well, most people I do this too be smart and know how to economize efforts so they do not even mouth words, they just nod; an advanced technique, son.

mood indigo

video

“to exist is to survive unfair choices”

the oa

b

everyone complaining about repeated material.

Art is a lie.

Nothing is real.

source: a comment on bo burnham - sad

viernes 20

d

b

n

b

b

n

b

b

b

h

b

j

d

g

flow, be, do, submew

damn

lying is third skin to me

12:47
Him: "So here are the words. My love enters you."
Both: "Your love enters me. With your heart, with my heart, we grow, we survive".
Him: "Tihei Mauriora" = Difficult to translate. Is basically an acknowledgement towards what has been said.
Her: "Thank you."

source

show/focus/brocoli

“Here is the simple truth about people: Love the ones you want to keep.”
-Iain Thomas

so

hajaaaa

One of my favorite hobbies is pretending to have conversations on the phone that tie plot threads for people that might be eavesdropping.

Nigel, a handsome gannet bird who lived on a desolate island off the coast of New Zealand, died suddenly this week. Wherever his soul has landed, the singles scene surely cannot be worse.

The bird was lured to Mana Island three years ago by wildlife officials who, in hopes of establishing a gannet colony there, had placed concrete gannet decoys on cliffsides and broadcast the sound of the species’ calls. Nigel accepted the invitation, arriving in 2015 as the island’s first gannet in 40 years. But none of his brethren joined him.

In the absence of a living love interest, Nigel became enamored with one of the 80 faux birds. He built her — it? — a nest. He groomed her “chilly, concrete feathers . . . year after year after year,” the Guardian reported. He died next to her in that unrequited love nest, the vibrant orange-yellow plumage of his head contrasting, as ever, with the weathered, lemony paint of hers.

-source

a cold breeze is sliding through my leg as i write this

i like the feeling

it takes me back to my old room, to the states, to different states, to one, really
it brings me peace but no sweater

all time fell ap   , huh?

are

i don’t need to say it all out loud

i have control over that

and that only, maybe

silence is g

cat, how can we be so sure we’re doing the right thing when we’ve been changing -perhaps evolving- since the dawn of time? like what we thought was best 20 years ago, is no longer considered to be the best

truth is a lie
brocoli is mostly pink

letting go

of needing to explain everything is a relief

the fact that all things are temporary is a good fact
i'm only starting to realize that now
and it's

“this dirt tastes like dirt”