Like blood being drained, you turn from a beacon of attention, irritated, emulated, beautiful, ugly, to something thin, shallow and transparent. On the deathbed of my memory you are nothing but a pale whisper of a presence, and in my life you hold but little weight than birds five hundred miles up in the air. We still exist, but in opposite axles of this universe.
an hour spent sitting in the dark. lights turned on and pale luminescence glows from white bed sheets and stark walls. everything is so bleak, but I love everything.
I’m sorry that I’m both your umbrella and the rain.– Tablo (via hanthelion)
Follow your bliss, and the universe will open doors for you where there were...– Joseph Campbell (via rabbitinthemoon)