Quotes Tagged "romance"

The night sky should not be scary, it should always be beautiful. I imagine my marriage will be like this and that of the void, that I will love my wife when she dies and that it will love me back long after mine. The blank night sky faces me, with my back flattened out by another blackness.

It was in Kuala Lumpur that I saw the tree roots at the botanical gardens grow as much outside of the ground as inside. I saw what used to be the tallest building in the world still appreciated for its beauty long after it lost its title. I thought people could be like buildings, still adored despite their best years behind them. I heard the horns of cars drown out the sound of fountains spurting illuminated shades of violet and crashing against themselves and I thought it was time to leave, to head home the same way I left it; expecting things to be a different way than how they actually will work out. The actions of ones life, makes his life, and in this way things can disappear but never leave. A person that sees beauty in only the grand has never witnessed true beauty, if the abyss is to remind us of anything it is that there is beauty in nothingness and everything. The forest that has no trees, no stones, no path and no flowers is still a forest because of the feeling one can get walking through it which leaves me wondering if the grand zero is everything, that reality was a moment in which I both existed and ceased to exist.

Nature, or the natural, that is what we find beauty in. The idea that some idea belongs in part of an order. That it is more than coincidence or a strange occurrence or a singular moment but rather that it is a coincidence or a strange occurrence or a singular moment that is natural to our being is what makes it beautiful. As if being anywhere else but where we are would be wrong, a pale version of the beauty our hearts imagined.

People spend time trying to impress people through the things they do and say in a tone any louder than a gasped whisper. The mass commodification of cool is perverse in the sense that the individual defining the term has its basis in what they think others will idolise in their own individuality. If there was no ego there would be no cool. If there was no cool, people would see more beauty. They would stop seeing their lives as more important than others based on what they themselves value

So I drink just one more glass to get me through the night; I look at my lamp, my fan, all the pictures and posted on my wall and I know I have failed again. I have left things left unsaid, undone, unseen. With only my dreams to guide me. If I knew my greatest sins were behind me, and not only something I felt, I would feel safe alone in my flawed arms, hoping to touch something purer and lovelier than me, so I think of you. I know what hopes are left to you, I know what pressure they bring and I still feel them because if anything hopes are wasteless. They are the infinite until we become the finite. I know I should not be scared of them, I know that they could be false, but dreams themselves are only false when the individual is false. I am false. I am hope. I am all the things I wish I could be but never see. So I see you, beautiful, long black hair, I say: God let this all be for something. And you sit there with your brown questioning eyes, you smile and I think again: God let this all be for something.

I lay there. Lay there. The places we call home, are never remembered on a map. And all manic episodes start with a thought.

She left me ravenous and wishing upon fireflies for more. Limbs as puzzle pieces we fit together.

We were all deeply more ourselves than we had been before.

Nature was beautiful and I felt in tune with the universe, like every single decision I had made had brought me to here, to the glowing now. And here is such a beautiful place to be

We had sat on a bench to take a moments break earlier and we discussed the possibility of always being this high, obviously in love with the feeling of the world being perfect. Daren was sold on this possibility, thinking that this was the way to happiness. As happy as it made me I knew it was an experience that could not be repeated. When an experience is new or when it has not been felt in a long time, that is when it is its most profound. I knew it could not be repeated the same way. Beauty is so rarely repeated in experience. So they say, pleasure comes in halves.

What is the word that describes that feeling of complete of absent mindedness mixed with a sobering clarity. Like staring at a room that has gone blindingly full of light, a whiteness that keeps your mind attentive. What is the word for that feeling and does anyone else ever feel it? Do people begin everyday with their own prayer to a nameless god that is actually the universe? Are wishes our first thoughts of the day?

Beauty in a dream and beauty in reality can both be witnessed first hand. Mad men and women also witness beauty in their delusions. My world is full of those delusions but perhaps so is everyone else’s since we read into things and in the reading into of things we lose their truth in order to gain some truth in insight.

Another thing I had to learn the hard way is that once the mind is stretched by experience it can never go back to its original dimensions. No matter how desperately the alleged master of the mind wishes it could forget. That means every belief, understanding and perspective I ever have will be shaped by my past experience. Bias becomes unavoidable.

I remember I thought that she smelled like something I had never smelt before, but it was the sweetest scent. I could not describe it, but it was like a picture. A painting I had wanted to see my whole life. She was rainy mornings, and the view of cars going by in blurs while you sat still. She was the moon, that was full, but you know could empty if there ever was a sadness. The emptiness is the part I hated. It was a feeling that made you empty to reciprocate hers, it was a feeling that when she was full she could make you full too.

It is the same way someone can greet death, to look in her eyes. The light that shone over her black hair whether artificial or natural made it glisten, never choking out the grand her. There is this deep belief that you know that this person has the power to kill you. Even if it does not hurt, even if it is not a pang of pain you feel inside you at every moment that you think will or will never go away. It is there anyways, I think I may think about it everyday and wish it had been different. It was a possible outcome I would have liked to live in.

All the joints and drinks in the world could only serve to remind me. I imagine myself being Gatsby watching the party that I have thrown to get to where I am. A future where there is a something. Where I am better, where I am something.

People are scared to talk about death, they fear what is inevitable because it ends the current chapter without knowing if there will be a sequel, but it would be so beautiful to wake up as your flower. Or an atom, part of some distant planet with you. We could collide until we merged like all the physics teachers said was inevitable. Neutrons, protons and some unforeseen gravitational force. We could be drops of UV rays on the skin of some moon. I am always stuck at writing a sentence without you, no writers block would be worth not thinking of you.

The last step before death is the moment of its demise. The emptiness or the new life. But the last step is also a point of reference itself. The last step can last as short or as long as its creator defines it. The last step could be before death itself. It could be the middle of death. It could be the last goodbye or the last look before eyelids drop to a close like curtains.

The truly cost effective lifestyle would be to produce everything you require, it would subsequently imply a self-created kind of freedom. Time would be lost but it would all be your own, this however does not account for skill. The current institutionalised education system was not made for self-sustainability but rather extreme specialisation. The business sector itself accounts for a large amount of activity, so much so that it has its own defining term: the economy. Spaces in the world, both virtual and spatial have always had the socio-polticial-economic system but now it is more defined, more contested and more vulnerable.

I think I finally understand what it is that you experienced in our last moments together. The fear to resign yourself to a final belief greater than yourself. It is difficult to decide what cause to believe in because of the fear that it is a lesser unworthy cause, it is not the meaning but rather a symptom of looking for meaning. And in all of our attachments we long for them to have meaning no matter how long they last. It is a scary thing to create such a drastic action that changes your life. It requires more than faith, there will be a second where only the action and what Kierkegaard called the infinite movement would have to occur. The final dance.