c Occidere vel occidi

Occidere vel occidi


I'm boring and I cry too much.
I write because people are dumb.
“I think that we're all mentally ill. Those of us outside the asylums only hide it a little better - and maybe not all that much better after all.” - Stephen King

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My Heart and Soul

♥ 198
→ 05 May 13 at 10 pm
tags: writing 
Scars by Rudy Francisco

1. If I could, I would nail these hands to the edges of stars. I would sacrifice this body to the sky hoping to resurrect as someone spiteful enough to not give a fuck about you.

2. Staple me to a cross. Pierce my side with a broken promise and I will bleed all the crippled reasons why you deserve one more chance.

3. Your bed smells like the last thing I was really good at.

4. You wanna know how I got these scars? I ripped every last piece of you out of my smile. 

5. I whispered you stardust.

6. I spoke you into sunflowers. 

7. I dipped my hands in forever, touched you infinity, treated you as if you were the last molecule of oxygen inside of a gas chamber. I was good to you.

8. You wanna know how I got these scars? I swallowed my pride and it clawed its way outside of my mouth. 

9. I realized I was never really your boyfriend. I was just your fuckin’ hype man. 

10. I hope your next boyfriend gets smallpox.

10. Yes, I said smallpox.

10. I hate you.

10. I miss you.

10. I love you.

10. It’s hard for me to count when I get emotional.

10. I heard that 90% of human interaction is nonverbal so….

10. If I could, I would tie your arms to a daydream and then auction you off to my fondest memories. 

(Source: thekittycab)

♥ 1
→ 02 May 13 at 12 am
tags: writing  it has been too long 

Christmas was drawing near; He and I sought it with
desire. Christmas was our home: it was
steeping jasmine tea in honey and snowflake-decorated mugs, or spending
chilly mornings under seas of hand-knitted quilts; Christmas was everything
warm to embrace; it was the course of the breeze in the
vicinity of my white frosted lawn; but most of all, Christmas was
us.

♥ 5
→ 13 Apr 13 at 7 pm
tags: writing 

Look here, darling.

It’s fine to be

broken. 

Do not be afraid

of the dark;

for every time

your candle goes out,

I will be here to ignite

the flame 

again.

♥ 17
→ 12 Apr 13 at 2 am
tags: writing  brought back sighz 

My Dearest,

I love you so I am letting you go. For such a long time, you were my sunrise. Today, you will be my sunset. I never associated your name with the words “forever” or “always” so I am not upset to the point where I can’t fathom my feelings into words. Now here I am, painting my thoughts in the form of a bittersweet letter.

I knew I’d love you when you didn’t react to stories of my past. Your eyes did not dim or vacate. Your gaze lingered on my face the entire time as I unwound my past unto your arms and across your chest. Where others would usually feel uncomfortable, you embraced my past. You embraced the worst parts of me and that is when I knew I would love you. 

I knew I’d want you when I saw you standing outside that one night. You left me nearly breathless in the way you just stood there. You were gleaming with confidence and charm in a way I had never seen before. It was almost as if I was looking at the delicacy in your faults right then and there. Your weaknesses were nothing more than beautiful to me and that is when I knew I would want you.

I wanted you and I loved you as much as I could. It was a different kind of “want” and “love”. I couldn’t begin to describe how this kind of love rises above the others I have encountered, but just know that our love could not possibly go unforgotten.

I am letting you go because I know that this can’t work. We’re never on the same page, on the same chapter. Some times, we’re not even in the same book. I’ve thought about this for quite awhile and it was hard to come to this conclusion. I couldn’t bring myself to accept that even if you love somebody and want somebody to your fullest extent, it might not be enough. And it isn’t enough for you. How could I have been so wrong about somebody who seemed so right for me? 

Unfortunately, it is possible. And I was. My love, I am letting you go so I can find somebody along the lines of my own book, who will stay along those lines. I’m hoping you do the same because you deserve only the highest kind of happiness. Although I loved you with a love that couldn’t possibly fall second to any others, I cannot stay. I know you’ll understand because I know where your heart really lies. Chase after her. Make her yours. 

But thank you for showing me how to love so selflessly, so fearlessly, so wholeheartedly. Wherever we both fall, remember that I fell the hardest for you.

(Source: 726days, via jenimaibui)

♥ 555
→ 11 Apr 13 at 6 pm

E.E Cummings

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via langleav)

tags: writing  perfection 

"

Up into the silence the green
silence with a white earth in it

you will(kiss me)go

out into the morning the young
morning with a warm world in it

(kiss me)you will go

on into the sunlight the fine
sunlight with a firm day in it

you will go(kiss me

down into your memory
and a memory and memory

i)kiss me(will go).

"

♥ 6
→ 09 Apr 13 at 1 am
tags: writing 

Mama,

It’s been a year, two weeks and five days since they took me away from you. They said I’d see you soon. They said I would. 

Mama, it’s been really hard. I don’t know who these men are and I don’t know why they give me money. I wish I could write about what happens before they give me the money but they told me not to. It’s scary, Mama. It’s even scarier than that movie we watched on my birthday. 

I don’t know why they do this to me. After they give me the money, the other men take it away from me again. And then other men I’ve never seen before do the same thing, then give me money again. It hurts, Mama. I wish you were here to kiss my forehead and tell me that everything will be okay. It hurts more than the time I fell off the swings.

Some times I wonder if you still love me. I know it’s hard to love me because you haven’t seen me or put my hair behind my ear like you used to do for so long. I always give them letters to send and I never get anything back. I’m sorry they took me away, Mama. I want to come back but I don’t know how to. I’m sorry I left. Please write back.

♥ 6
→ 09 Apr 13 at 12 am
tags: writing 

Read More

(Source: 1915181)

♥ 180364
→ 08 Apr 13 at 11 am

This is how you lose her. 

You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

You must remember when she forgets. 

You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.

She remembers when you forget. 

You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the  beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

You must learn her. 

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. 

You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

And, this is how you keep her.

(via ambiguous-transparency)
tags: writing 
This is how you lose her.  You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely. You must remember when she forgets.  You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention. She remembers when you forget.  You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the  beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good. You must learn her.  You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.  You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept. And, this is how you keep her.
♥ 41930
→ 06 Apr 13 at 10 am

(Source: jamesandrewcrosby, via featherumbrellas)
tags: writing 

→ 06 Apr 13 at 1 am
tags: writing 

Let me tell you that

you are different.

From the beautiful brain in your head

to the very way you move your feet.

You are different and

I love you differently.

I just wish that

we could end differently.

♥ 170694
→ 31 Mar 13 at 4 pm

(via swerveedude)

tags: writing 

"If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die."

♥ 17
→ 31 Mar 13 at 3 pm
tags: writing 

My Dearest,

I love you so I am letting you go. For such a long time, you were my sunrise. Today, you will be my sunset. I never associated your name with the words “forever” or “always” so I am not upset to the point where I can’t fathom my feelings into words. Now here I am, painting my thoughts in the form of a bittersweet letter.

I knew I’d love you when you didn’t react to stories of my past. Your eyes did not dim or vacate. Your gaze lingered on my face the entire time as I unwound my past unto your arms and across your chest. Where others would usually feel uncomfortable, you embraced my past. You embraced the worst parts of me and that is when I knew I would love you. 

I knew I’d want you when I saw you standing outside that one night. You left me nearly breathless in the way you just stood there. You were gleaming with confidence and charm in a way I had never seen before. It was almost as if I was looking at the delicacy in your faults right then and there. Your weaknesses were nothing more than beautiful to me and that is when I knew I would want you.

I wanted you and I loved you as much as I could. It was a different kind of “want” and “love”. I couldn’t begin to describe how this kind of love rises above the others I have encountered, but just know that our love could not possibly go unforgotten.

I am letting you go because I know that this can’t work. We’re never on the same page, on the same chapter. Some times, we’re not even in the same book. I’ve thought about this for quite awhile and it was hard to come to this conclusion. I couldn’t bring myself to accept that even if you love somebody and want somebody to your fullest extent, it might not be enough. And it isn’t enough for you. How could I have been so wrong about somebody who seemed so right for me? 

Unfortunately, it is possible. And I was. My love, I am letting you go so I can find somebody along the lines of my own book, who will stay along those lines. I’m hoping you do the same because you deserve only the highest kind of happiness. Although I loved you with a love that couldn’t possibly fall second to any others, I cannot stay. I know you’ll understand because I know where your heart really lies. Chase after her. Make her yours. 

But thank you for showing me how to love so selflessly, so fearlessly, so wholeheartedly. Wherever we both fall, remember that I fell the hardest for you.

♥ 3
→ 30 Mar 13 at 6 pm
tags: writing 

“How did you love so fearlessly? How did you not fear love itself? Because most people fear love since it’s a fragile thing that can produce so many outcomes.. but you embraced it.” 

I didn’t fear love; you’re right. How? Let’s look at it this way: you’re running a race. That finish line is where you’d like to be, so why would you fear it? I didn’t fear love because that’s where I wanted to be. I wanted to love him. I do realize that love can wreak havoc and chaos, that love can raise hell, that love is simply a pain in the ass. But when won’t it be troublesome? The best kind of love will be the worst kind of love. Well, that’s what I believe. I loved him so fearlessly because I wanted the best of him and I wanted the worst of him. I wanted the worst of him so I could excavate the beauty in his faults, so I could recognize them and still find perfection in his imperfections. I loved him so fearlessly, so recklessly, so relentlessly because love is a waste of time if you love carefully. Why would you love carefully? To preserve your feelings? To save yourself from shedding a couple tears? Tough luck. If you love correctly, it’s fine to shed tears and have your feelings hurt. Why would you be afraid of skinning your knee when you’re so involved in the game? You either love wholly or you don’t love at all. And that, that is why I didn’t fear love. That is why I loved him so fearlessly. Well, that’s figuratively speaking.. because I don’t love him.
♥ 28
→ 29 Mar 13 at 1 am
tags: writing 

And the hardest part
is sitting here,
watching,
and not being able to say a thing
about the way you love her and
the way she does not
and will not love you.
The saddest part
is sitting here,
waiting,
and never being able to tell you
about the way I love you and
the way you do not
and will not love me.

♥ 4
→ 28 Mar 13 at 12 am
tags: writing 

I like to sometimes wonder 

what life would be like if

you loved me, too. 

But then I remember that

my feelings wouldn’t quite be the same

and so I became content

with the way I love you

and the way you don’t love me.