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26. Writer. I don't believe in bios.


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Permalink | 692 notes Who what am I? My answer: I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’ve gone which would not have happened if I had not come. Nor am I particularly exceptional in this matter; each “I”, everyone of the now-six-hundred-million-plus of us, contains a similar multitude. I repeat for the last time: to understand me, you’ll have to swallow a world. Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children
Permalink | 3,905 notes eliseii: I am my own. I will never subject myself to being half of a whole, incomplete without someone by my side. I want to love, but I don’t want someone else’s identity to consume mine. 
Permalink | 16,715 notes GPOY.
Permalink | 480 notes I’m going back to New York City, I do believe I’ve had enough. Bob Dylan
Permalink | 7 notes LATELYMore important than breakfast is waking up next to someone and haing them gently touch your face without you even asking. Dallas Clayton
Permalink | 5 notes inmytimeofliving: an old slaughter house and meat packing plant I find so much beauty and innocence in the encounter of strangers. How beautiful it is to be able to sit in another’s company in silence so assured; each entranced in his own delirium, each feeding to his own musings—in a library, at a cafe, in a shop, in a cab. They say that silence this beautiful can only be founded by two lovers, but I find understanding in a stranger; a unanimous agreement, perhaps, as if saying ‘Hello, stranger, allow me to accompany you in wordless loneliness.’ (via butchrag)
Permalink | 49 notes When I see you, the World stops. It stops and all that exists for me is you and my eyes staring at you. There’s nothing else. No noise, no other people, no thoughts or worries, no yesterday, no tomorrow. The World just stops, and it is a beautiful place, and there is only you. James Frey, A Million Little Pieces
Permalink | 1 note https://www.facebook.com/Chaos.Theory.Photography Let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry…have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost. Betty Smith, A Tree Grows In Brooklyn
Permalink | 6 notes I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of New York’s skyline. Ayn Rand
Permalink | 11 notes There were moments when such scenes delighted Lily, when they gratified her sense of beauty and her craving for the external finish of life. Edith Wharton
Permalink | 8 notes He had green eyes, so I wanted to sleep with him, green eyes flicked with yellow, dried leaves on the surface of a pool—You could drown in those eyes, I said. Richard Siken
Permalink | 17 notes Anyone who takes himself too seriously always runs the risk of looking ridiculous; anyone who can consistently laugh at himself does not. Vaclav Havel
Permalink | 85 notes Time is the substance from which I am made. Time is a river which carries me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire. Borges
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