That non-existing perfection

You may not be her first, her last or her only. She loved before, she may love again - but if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect. You aren’t either. The two of you will never be perfect, but if she can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice and if she admits to being human and making mistakes - hold onto her and give her the most you can.

She won't read your mind, she’s not thinking about you every moment, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you could break. Don’t hurt her, don’t change her and don’t expect for more than she can give. Don’t analyze.

Smile when she makes you happy, yell when she makes you mad and miss her when she’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect girls don’t exist, but there’s always one girl that is perfect for you.


I'll remember


Tiden som aldrig fanns

Du ville träffa mig i veckan, det var någon dag som passade dig. Du tog förgivet att jag kunde, men du glömde fråga mig. För du flyger högre än oss andra, man får se upp varenda gång.

Jo, jag mår bra. Det blir vackert och lika sorgset som förut - trots att här finns inga brustna hjärtan. Alla ser likadana ut. Det är grönare i parken och du ropar högt när du är där. Du säger att jag skrämde bort dig - fast, du var ju aldrig här?

Du går ensam hem från dem och jag undrar hur du gör. Du vet, om det är lättare att falla med ena foten utanför. Du ville träffa mig i veckan och du vill alltid samma sak. Du vill ha det du förlorat, men älskling...
 

- mig får du aldrig tillbaks

A smile to remember

We had goldfish and they circled around and around in the bowl on the table, near the heavy drapes covering the picture window. My mother, always smiling, wanting us all to be happy, told me: "Be happy, Henry!"
 
She was right; it's better to be happy if you can, but my father continued to beat her and me several times a week while raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't understand what was attacking him from within. 

My mother, poor fish, wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a week, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile! Why don't you ever smile?" - and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the saddest smile I ever saw.

One day the goldfish died. All five of them. They floated on the water. On their sides. Their eyes still open. When my father got home he threw them to the cat, there on the kitchen floor
 
 


- and we watched as my mother 
smiled.
 


 
C. Bukowski

Jalal al-din Rumi

Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion. You were born with potential. You were born with goodness and trust. You were born with ideals and dreams. You were born with greatness. You were born with wings. You are not meant for crawling, so don’t. You have wings. Learn to use them and fly.
 
You sit here for days saying: "This is strange business." You’re the strange business. You have the energy of the sun in you, but you keep knotting it up at the base of your spine. You’re some weird kind of gold that wants to stay melted in the furnace, so you won’t have to become coins.
 
Why should I stay at the bottom of a well when a strong rope is in my hand? Become the sky. Take an axe to the prison wall. Escape. Do you know what you are? You are a manuscript of a divine letter. You are a mirror reflecting a noble face.
 
 
This universe is not outside of you. Look inside yourself;
everything that you want, you are already that.

Hell is empty, the devils are here


Alone isn't lonely


Vi skulle klara vad som helst

Du ser andra halvan av solen när den sjunker i väst
Jag sitter ensam här och undrar var vi hamnar härnäst
Med dig på andra sidan jorden får jag tid till ingenting
Medan natten fäller blå, kalla skuggor häromkring
Och alldeles nyss fick jag lyssna till ditt skratt
Och du berätta att du saknar mig inatt
En elegi för alla vägar som vi inte vandrat än
För en tid som bara går och aldrig kommer igen

Vi skulle klara vad som helst, vi skulle aldrig säga nej
Och vad du anförtror åt mig, ska jag anförtro åt dig 

Invaded territory


Demonized

Batman The Dark Knight Joker Drawing White wallpaper background
We stopped checking for monsters under our
bed when we realized they were inside us.

Huvudroll

 

Last request

Let me hold you for the last time. It's the last chance to feel again, 'cause you broke me and now I can't feel anything. When I love you, it's so untrue that I can't even convince myself. When I'm speaking, it's the voice of someone else.

It tears me up, 'cause I try to hold on, but it hurts too much. I try to forgive, but it's not enough to make it all okay. You know, the truth hurts and lies worse. How can I give 
anymore when you made me love you a little less than before?
 
What are we doing? We are turning into dust, playing house in the ruins of us. Running back through the fire when there's nothing left to save. It's like chasing the very last train when it's too late.




You can't play on broken strings.

T. Joy

I say love her the most when the day is over and weighing heavy on the lids of her eyes. After she's exhausted. When all options and the feeling of failure kicks in.


Remind her of what she hasn't failed at.
Remind her that she's a queen in all her glory.


Love her most when she's tired. Love her so much that you bring life to everything in her that has tried to die. 

Frida Kahlo

 
I used to think I was the strangest person in the world, but then I thought: "There are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me, who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do".
 
I would imagine her and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this, know that, yes, it’s true I’m here


- and I’m just as strange as you.

Our messed up priorities




A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that 1,100 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.


Three minutes went by, and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace, and stopped for a few seconds, and then hurried up to meet his schedule. A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping, and continued to walk. A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried, but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally, the mother pushed hard, and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money, but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the most talented musicians in the world. He had just played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, on a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste, and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: 

Do we perceive beauty?

Do we stop to appreciate it?

Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?







...so how many other things are
we missing without even knowing?

Hur man illustrerar mobbning:

En lärare gjorde följande för att beskriva
vad mobbning har för effekt på människor:


Först bad hon vardera elev att ta varsitt pappersark. Därefter blev de tillsagda att skrynkla ihop det, kasta det på golvet, trampa och spotta på det - allt, utan att riva itu pappret. Senare skulle barnen granska pappret och beskriva hur smutsigt och befläckat pappret var, med kvarlämnade märken och spår av slagen på.

Efter de diverse handlingarna, ombads barnen att be pappersarket om ursäkt. Trots det faktum att de bad om ursäkt och försökte släta ut det med olika medel, förblev pappret skrynkligt och befläckat. Barnens ansiktsuttryck indikerade på att budskapet hade önskad effekt.




"Dessa märken kommer aldrig att försvinna, oavsett hur mycket och hårt du än försöker jämna ut dem. Ni ser, detta motsvarar vad en mobbare gör mot andra. Oavsett hur många gånger du ber om ursäkt till den du mobbat, kommer ärren aldrig att försvinna".



Everyone matters




During my second year of nursing school our professor gave us a quiz.  I breezed through the questions until I read the last one:  "What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?"  Surely this was a joke.  I had seen the cleaning woman several times, but how would I know her name?

I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank.  Before the class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our grade.  "Absolutely," the professor said.  "In your careers, you will meet many people.  All are significant.  They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say hello.".  I've never forgotten that lesson.


Her name was Dorothy.




See baby, we just did it wrong

So cry if you need to, but I can't stay to watch you. Touch if you need to, but I can't stay to hold you. Talk if you need to, but I can't stay to hear you. That's the wrong thing to do.

'Cause you'll say that you love me and I'll end upp lying - saying I love you too. I just need someone different. You know it, 'cause something has been missing.

We live in a generation 'not being in love' and not being together, but we sure make it feel like we're together, 'cause we're scared too see each other with somebody else.



Ain't that right?


Don't slipp. Don't fall.


Miss 'High profile', caught you shopping on Canal. I guess it makes sense, it seems like phony is your style. Your hair and your nails - just as phony as your smile. Fake eyelashes, you drew your eyebrows, it make a brother ask: do you pride yourself?

Your make up is like a mask, trying to hide yourself. It seems on the outside that you're thinking you're the shit, but there's a soul inside that you don't even knew exist. So, you're so out of touch that the world mistreat you. Rich niggas f*ck you and broke niggas beat you.

Hoping this will reach you when you understand - your value ain't determined by another man. Because right now you let them brothers get the upper hand and you just tell them: go deep like Cunningham. You see, that p*ssy is so good that he let his friends try it.


Girl you're losing your balance.

The one you let smash

Now girl you're fine, ain't no doubt about it. But why
do you
else think he hit it and then forgot about it?

- See, it's because your mind
don't match what your ass got.

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