I Don’t Know You Yet
I don’t know you yet
I’ve never laid a hand on your delicate flesh
Nor listened to the curve of your beautiful lips
But I could win your heart.I do know that.
I have washed in the undying moonlight cast by your cheeks
And danced to the sweet melody of your wildest dreams.And although I don’t know why
My heart pounds like this
I promise I will try
To fill that dark abyss.
The sound of the midnight train passing through our hollow hometown always soothed you,
Everything in complete silence, and then the train ran through, filled the air and our ears with an unbearable yet beautiful noise,
To you, it was the sound of life, of hope,
The voice of the world singing you a song, a lullaby to calm you down and let you know it would still be there tomorrow
Hello summer!
(via cherielollo)
Taking photos of myself instead of studying
In a moment of perfect calm, you’re quiet
In touch, in love with the holy whole that is the universe, us
In music, in a voice, in the sky and the blurred trees outside the car window,
the wind and the sea, the speed, the sun and everyone I saw
Everything in tune to the sound of beautiful tunes,
tuning out the noises of disrupt
A song to set me free
On repeat
(Source: Spotify)
"We are living in a culture entirely hypnotized by the illusion of time, in which the so-called present moment is felt as nothing but an infinitesimal hairline between an all-powerfully causative past and an absorbingly important future. We have no present. Our consciousness is almost completely preoccupied with memory and expectation. We do not realize that there never was, is, nor will be any other experience than present experience. We are therefore out of touch with reality. We confuse the world as talked about, described, and measured with the world which actually is. We are sick with a fascination for the useful tools of names and numbers, of symbols, signs, conceptions and ideas."
Alan Watts
(Source: zenwisdom, via likethesun)
Have you ever had that feeling, like coming home
Having spent half a lifetime searching for somewhere to belong
Not a lost soul, but a forgotten heart remembering it’s supposed to beat
