(Source: beautflstranger)

I will not forget you, though. I don’t think that you particularly deserve my memory, nor do I flatter myself into believing that you return my sense of vague wistfulness. There is no part of me that wants to return to the limbo I existed in for so long, or even the often-imagined parallel universe in which you reciprocated my feelings to the letter. I do, however, want to remember what it feels like to be hurt, to want, to need something so desperately only to find out that your life is perfectly fine without it. As much as the little scar on my knee will always remind me to watch out when I am running, yours on my heart will teach me to be kind. Because I know what it feels like to be cast aside with indifference, and I know that it’s a pain from which the body itself takes a long time to recover. You will live in my mind as a cautionary tale, a fable of how much damage words can do — especially when they are insincere. And though I am not nostalgic for what we did have, I am hopeful about life being filled with everything we didn’t.
Instead of saying “I don’t have time” try saying “it’s not a priority,” and see how that feels. Often, that’s a perfectly adequate explanation. I have time to iron my sheets, I just don’t want to. But other things are harder. Try it: “I’m not going to edit your résumé, sweetie, because it’s not a priority.” “I don’t go to the doctor because my health is not a priority.” If these phrases don’t sit well, that’s the point. Changing our language reminds us that time is a choice. If we don’t like how we’re spending an hour, we can choose differently.
razedbridges:

This is just so beautiful

razedbridges:

This is just so beautiful

magrittee:

Salvador Dali - The Woman with a Head of Roses (partial)

magrittee:

Salvador Dali - The Woman with a Head of Roses (partial)

andreaschoice:

cat doesn’t want to get out of nice warm bath [x]

the pad on his head ^_^

(Source: justjasper)

veuvenoir:

Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns

veuvenoir:

Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns

(Source: aseaofquotes)

highwaygone:

Growing up next door to the “sisters” was always an adventure.

highwaygone:

Growing up next door to the “sisters” was always an adventure.

(Source: iheartchaos)

quienesesachica:

bookporn:

Mik Pozin: Uncover and Writhe for Me

Listen to the voice in your head as you read this line. This is as true as you will ever sound. Every expressed subtlety and every defining cadence is the portrait of the uninhibited you.

Forget every time you’ve ever second-guessed your spoken word. Never again dwell on every moment you spent unable to relay your thoughts without tripping over your limbs and questioning your nervous glances.

Maybe one day, you will speak as freely as you think–full of whim, character, and the authentic personality that has forever been in dear demand and starved supply.

Read more lines and cultivate your thoughts. Between what you are told to think and what you truly wish to say lies a great chasm that few cross.

But literature makes you honest. It validates every feeling you’ve ever had that something was off center. Find your passion reverberating, your gut wrenching, and your mouth drying from what were once deemed mere words on a page.

And so you will find in literature both life and death, our origins and our future, and at last, the unfiltered truth.

Literature dances a dance no less intricate than snowflakes. Hundreds of rules and laws and patterns and dynamics and situational prerequisites govern the micro-creation of a macro wonder. Look upon an open book and see fresh fallen snow. Indulge your childlike wonder and remark at the beauty that order creates and entropy molds.

Let your winds blow and craft intricate patterns. Your imagination will thank you. It’s been on hold long enough while you waited for entertainment to pander to you. But watching is passive. It renders you mute. Even the strongest of men will flee a room of absolute silence in under an hour. Yet so many of us spend years, if not our entire lives, as prisoners in precisely such deprivation.

Read, because it is the only way you will be able to conquer yourself. A song may give you the words to get by, but books will give you the voice to prosper.

Read, because it is the only candid user experience, wherein you take the center stage.

Read, because it is the only art form through which you create by receiving. It accepts you when its tale and the ones latent within you fuse. It asks for nothing in return, so bask and let the soul of the author jive through your voice.

Listen to yourself. The frequency at which you vibrate resonates in your words. Your greatest harmony is your mind speaking the very same unified stories that underpin our peculiar time here.

Go, uncover a book, because your voice is what this age is looking for and we writhe to dance to your words.

Text: Mik Pozin.

Photography: Demi Chen.

Location: Rizzolli Bookstore (31st W57th St).

I wanted to make this post for so long! the text is amazing and the photographs are beautiful.