All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream in the dark recesses of the night awaken in the day to find it was all vanity. But the dreamers of day are dangerous men, for they act their dreams with eyes open, and make it possible

#seven pillars of wisdom

Can’t Help Falling In Love With You

Wise men say only fools rush in
But I can’t help falling in love you
Shall I stay
Would it be a sin
If I can’t help falling in love with you

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be
Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can’t help falling in love with you

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be 
Take my hand, Take my whole life too
For I can’t help falling in love with you

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#il divo


#can't help falling in love with you


There is a sound the mute makes when they are murdered, their vocal cords cannot vibrate, so what the listener hears instead is the air quivering, pushing in and pushing out a wall of silence, this is the sound of terror in a vacuum.

I saw people ripped in two, flesh split like broken dolls. What used to be an aisle outside the sky had shattered and the world which i always imagined as soft cotton blue was angry and stained with pain.

Do you see as i witnessed the end of the world, i saw heaven and earth trade places. I knew where devils came from, and with the weight of my life on my brows, I was so sure my head would burst.

At the end of it all, as i watched the sky explode in fireworks of diamond glass explosions, i started to cry.

The end of the road, 3am thoughts

There is no final, satisfying way to balance our need to be alone with our need to be known. The balance is always uncertain and provisional; it’s always a matter of dissatisfaction, give and take and sacrifice… It is up to us to balance the risks and the rewards - to trade, in right proportion, loneliness for freedom, explicability for mystery, and the knowable for the unknown within ourselves. Loneliness is a special kind of illness, it can be loud or soft, and there are no right or wrong symptoms. Finding a cure is easier said than done, but when one is found it will surprise you, just like how quickly you can mend your wound or how long it takes to find the places that hurt the most. 

I am trying to think of all the times when words didn’t work, and all the times that I had to use pain to remind myself that I am still alive. Of all the times that I let people break my heart just so I could feel something. But, no matter how careful you are, there is always going to be the sense that you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn’t experience at all. There’s that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments when you should have been paying attention. And to realise that all your life you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memory, all your pain, it was the same thing. It was the same dream. A dream that you has inside a locked room, and a dream about being a person. Just like a lot of dreams, there was a monster at the end of it. Because everything ended when you left. 

It’s easy to love people in memory, the hard part was loving them when they are right in front of you. and yet, that was the thing, you never got used to the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it’s reconciled, accepted - someone points it out to you and it just hits you all over again, it’s shocking. But after a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul. And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning, and company doesn’t mean security. And you begin to understand that kisses doesn’t mean contracts, and presents aren’t promises. You start to accept your defeats and with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of a woman and not the grief of a child. And you learn to build all your roads on today, because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans, and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight. After a while you learn, that even sunshine burns you when you get too much. Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flower, learn to plant your own garden and decorate your own soul. Learn that you can really endure, and that you are strong and you really do have worth. With every goodbye, you learn a little more.

Let everything happen to you; beauty and terror, just keep going because no feeling is final. And sometimes it’s the smallest things that will remind us of what more life has to offer: the weather growing colder, the innocent smile of a child, or the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You might think that you can’t take it anymore, that you can’t go on anymore, but one way or another, you will get past that. 





What must love itself in its fullness, its perfection be. He did not know that what he was experiencing then, that unreal, undesirous medley of ecstasy and peace, would be unrecapturable forever.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Love in the Night (via fitzgeraldquotes)

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Changed hair colour slightly cause i was bored. It was supposed to be burgundy brown, but it turned out closer to maroon do you think? Haha oh well :/

Changed hair colour slightly cause i was bored. It was supposed to be burgundy brown, but it turned out closer to maroon do you think? Haha oh well :/

#hair dye

#burgundy brown

 We are, on earth, two distinct races. Those who have need of others, whom others amuse, engage soothe, whom solitude harasses, pains, stupefies, like the movement of a terrible glacier or the traversing of the desert; and those, on the contrary, whom others weary, tire, bore, silently torture, whom isolation calms and bathes in the repose of independency, and plunges into the humors of their own thoughts. In fine, there is here a normal, physical phenomenon. Some are constituted to live a life outside of themselves, others, to live a life within themselves. As for me, my exterior associations are abruptly and painfully short-lived, and, as they reach their limits, I experience in my whole body and in my whole intelligence an intolerable uneasiness.

#guy de maupassant


This is a poem about rain,
not you,
so you will forgive me
if I only refer to you in the oblique,
between the L-shaped sounds
of water,
shadowy places,
and a cerise sky.
when the night is deep
you are out on the streets
and I’m waiting for sleep,
I send out rain
to follow you,
lopsidedly, as if a kind
ghost, as if through an
you were seeing
sand at a slant.
So if I open the window a little,
swaying against glass,
test the air
for a possibility of rain,
perhaps you will forget
how, sometimes,
rain is complicated,
rain can break you if it wants.
Who knew, one night
rain under streetlamps
would aspire to the condition
of glow-worms?
This rain is a letter,
how it pulses through,
angling words
out of the slow scent of raw earth,
sudden lights.
But this poem is rain,
on you.

C.S. Bhagya, “On Rain”  (via larmoyante)

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Love this omg!! <3 aahaha

#michael jackson




As children, we flinch at the sight of blood not yet realizing it means family, loyalty, and is the essence of life. But for all its virtue, there is the unavoidable reality that blood is often the child of pain, and a violent reminder that anything can be taken away in the blink of an eye

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Love makes of each moment an eternity
And tends the garden of the heart’s desire
When love mocks, ruby tears fall heavy as pomegranates
And when love looks, it sees your deepest mystery.
Love seeks out the tears of hidden hearts
And turns not from the Lovers of the Dawn.
Is there a remedy for the pain of love?
Or is it too unbearable for thought?
One taste of the medicine
And you will realise just how sick you have been.
Those who plead in the defence of love
In love’s judgement shall find grace
And to that court,
May your heart fly…

Even after all this time
The sun never says to the earth,
“you owe me.”
Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky.

Note: i’ve just discovered the poems of Hafiz of Shiraz, i wholeheartedly agree with Edward Fitzgerald when he said Hafiz is a musician with words. :”)

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#hafiz of shiraz


#love poem


To influence a person is to give him one’s own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of some one else’s music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is self-development. To realize one’s nature perfectly—that is what each of us is here for.

People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to one’s self. Of course, they are charitable. They feed the hungry and clothe the beggar. But their own souls starve, and are naked. Courage has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it. The terror of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God, which is the secret of religion—these are the two things that govern us.

And yet I believe that if one man were to live out his life fully and completely, were to give form to every feeling, expression to every thought, reality to every dream—I believe that the world would gain such a fresh impulse of joy that we would forget all the maladies of mediaevalism, and return to the Hellenic ideal— to something finer, richer than the Hellenic ideal, it may be. But the bravest man amongst us is afraid of himself.

The mutilation of the savage has its tragic survival in the self-denial that mars our lives. We are punished for our refusals. Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind and poisons us. The body sins once, and has done with its sin, for action is a mode of purification. Nothing remains then but the recollection of a pleasure, or the luxury of a regret. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. It has been said that the great events of the world take place in the brain. It is in the brain, and the brain only, that the great sins of the world take place also.

- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

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#the picture of dorian gray



#Oscar Wilde

A time for us

A time for us someday there’ll be
When chains are torn by courage born of a love that’s free
A time when dreams so long denied
Can flourish as we unveil the love we now must hide

A time for us at last to see
A life worthwhile for you and me

And with our love through tears and thorns
We will endure as we pass surely through every storm
A time for us someday there’ll be
A new world, a world of shining hope for you and me

A time for us at last to see
A life worthwhile for you and me

And with our love through tears and thorns
We will endure as we pass surely through every storm
A time for us someday there’ll be
A new world, a world of shining hope for you and me

#a time for us


"Selfish-Gene" vs Group evolution

There are those who argue that altruism is evidence for group type evolution as opposed to “selfish-gene” type evolution. However, further readings seem to suggest that what is at first seen as altruism is actually a selfishness in the guise of love. Take for example a type of calling bird who flies off in the trees when there is predator. Usually, there is a bird to gives off the warning call and the rest of the flock flies into the trees to safety, so I guess, you’d ask “why attract attention to yourself to save the group, isn’t this evidence for group selection?” But what the bird is trying to do is actually far from altruistic. If he flies off into the trees alone, he’s temporarily increasing his domain of danger, and predators like hawk have also been known to go for the odd bird out, but the bird can’t just continue feeding on the ground and be sitting ducks (no pun intended) for the predator either, so the only way to save himself would be to fly off into the trees, but make the rest of the flock fly off with him also! 

Another example being: The stotting gazelle who jumps so ostentatiously to the point of provocation. These gazelles look as though they are inviting the predator’s attention to themselves to save the group. However, the idea of stotting, far from being a warning signal to the group is actually a signal to the predator. If put roughly in English would be saying: Look at how high I can I can jump, look at how fit and healthy I am, it would be difficult to catch me compared to the others, so why don’t you go catch some other member of the herd instead? 
And indeed, predators usually look for prey that is easier to catch to avoid their energy output in catching the prey to be far more then the nutrition received in eating it (topic for another day). So the gene for jumping high and ostentatiously is unlikely to be eaten by predators, propagating itself through to future generations. An individual who is jumping high is in fact advertising in an exaggerated way that he is neither old nor unhealthy. And the display is also FAR FROM ALTRUISTIC since his primary purpose is to convince the predator to chase someone else. 

The theory of the “selfish gene” who seems to put up a much more convincing argument as opposed to the group evolution.