to move up and down
atypicaljulia
Hello. Welcome, stranger tellurian. This is where I post all the stuff I find around the web that somehow manage to tickle my fancy. Enjoy.
(Source: brotips)
I have the same kind of shoes. He has the same kind of shirt. I don’t want to fall for anyone else. I don’t want him to fall for anyone else. Just thought it was relevant random rumblings.
(via preciousmaefeji)
Love Poem, John Frederick Nims
My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,
And have no cunning with any soft thingExcept all ill-at-ease fidgeting people:
The refugee uncertain at the door
You make at home; deftly you steady
The drunk clambering on his undulant floor.Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers’ terror,
Shrinking from far headlights pale as a dime
Yet leaping before apopleptic streetcars—
Misfit in any space. And never on time.A wrench in clocks and the solar system. Only
With words and people and love you move at ease;
In traffic of wit expertly maneuver
And keep us, all devotion, at your knees.Forgetting your coffee spreading on our flannel,
Your lipstick grinning on our coat,
So gaily in love’s unbreakable heaven
Our souls on glory of spilt bourbon float.Be with me, darling, early and late. Smash glasses—
I will study wry music for your sake.
For should your hands drop white and empty
All the toys of the world would break.
It is the strength you get to keep going. The strength that yells everything will be alright through the loud cries of despair and misfortune. The strength that drives you to pursue your dreams and aspirations of reaching the stars.
It is the courage you get to keep going. The courage that tells you everything is worth your all, even though hardships and obstacles along the way are inevitable. The courage that urges you to fight for what you believe in, that you belong, that you are the one.
It is the love you get to keep going. The love that tells you to have hope, to keep the faith and to still believe. The love that encourages you to be life’s daredevil, to challenge the limitations the world has laid out in front of you, to defeat your most terrifying monsters, to overcome your darkest fears, to belittle your greatest weaknesses, to cross the borderline of what public perception says is your limit. The love that feeds you inspiration and optimism that fuels your desire to make true the universe’s promise of a bright future.
It is love.
(Source: icanread)
Lucky I already am dating my crush. :) Haha. ♥
(Source: fish-baby, via thatfunnyblog)
Shmily
My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game was to write the word “shmily” in a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving “shmily” around the house, and as soon as one of them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more. They dragged “shmily” with their fingers through the sugar and flour containers to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows overlooking the patio where my grandma always fed us warm, homemade pudding with blue food coloring. “Shmily” was written in the steam left on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath. At one point, my grandmother even unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper to leave “shmily” on the very last sheet.
There was no end to the places “shmily” would pop up. Little notes with “shmily” scribbled hurriedly were found on dashboards and car seats, or taped to steering wheels. The notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows. “Shmily” was written in the dust upon the mantel and traced in the ashes of the fireplace.
This mysterious word was as much a part of my grandparents’ house as the furniture. It took me a long time before I was able to fully appreciate my grand-parents’ game. Skepticism has kept me from believing in true love-one that is pure and enduring. However, I never doubted my grandparents’ relationship. They had love down pat.It was more than their flirtatious little games; it was a way of life. Their relationship was based on a devotion and passionate affection which not everyone is lucky to experience. Grandma and Grandpa hold hands every chance they could. They stole kisses as they bumped into each other in their tiny kitchen.
They finished each other’s sentences and shared the daily crossword puzzle and word jumble..
My grandma whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was, how handsome and old he had grown to be. She claimed that she really knew “how to pick ‘em.”
Before every meal they bowed their heads and gave thanks, marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune, and each other. But there was a dark cloud in my grandparents’ life: my grandmother had breast cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier. As always, Grandpa was with her every step of the way. He comforted her in their yellow room, painted that way so that she could always be surrounded by sunshine, even when she was too sick to go outside. Now the cancer was again attacking her body.
With the help of a cane and my grandfather’s steady hand, they went to church every morning. But my grandmother grew steadily weaker until, finally, she could not leave the house anymore. For a while, Grandpa would go to church alone, praying to God to watch over his wife.
Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone. “Shmily.” It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother’s funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members came forward and gathered around Grandma one last time. Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother’s casket and, taking a shaky breath, he began to sing to her. Through his tears and grief, the song came, a deep and throaty lullaby. Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that moment. For I knew that, although I couldn’t begin to fathom the depth of their love, I had been privileged to witness its unmatched beauty.
S-h-m-i-l-y: See How Much I Love You.
By Laura Jeanne Allen
(Source: thylacineslair.com)
Be my penguin? ♥
Love never fails. ♥
What is love?
Love is a slow kiss goodnight
It is anticipation.
Love is an imperfection in yourself not bothering you.
It is acceptance.
Love is passing up an opportunity because the time isn’t right yet.
It is patience.
Love is a back massage that starts above the hairline and ends around the innersoles.
It is exploration.
Love is not having to say, “Let’s make love”, because you know what the other person wants.
It is understanding.
Love is being given an honest chance to say no when you thought you were committed.
It is consideration.
Love is saying the perfect phrase to make a solemn embrace dissolve into giggles.
It is humor.
Love is being told, “Stop and I’ll kill you”.
It is desire.
Love is reviewing the damage to your living room and realizing personal effects are strewn in a clockwise pattern from the front door to the bedroom.
It is abandonment.
Love is seeing what your lover really looks like for the first time.
It is truth.
Love is knowing what time it is and not caring.
It is joy.
Love is the arms around you tightening their embrace.
It is ecstasy.
Love is telling a person, if you have to leave, you will let them sleep, and being told they would rather be awakened.
It is tenderness.
Love is waking up to find the subject of the dream you were having asleep on your shoulder.
It is where fantasy meets reality.
Love is being there to wake your lover… slowly.
It is sensuousness.
Love is belatedly knowing why you bought a king size bed three years ago.
It is practicality.
Love is two people only taking up a third of a king size bed.
It is closeness.
Love is knowing you gave the extra set of keys to the right person.
It is trust.
Love is saying goodbye and knowing you will be back by mutual consent.
It is faith.
Love is stretching your arms and discovering the real meaning of the word “sore”.
It is a lesson in human fragility.
Love is opening your medicine cabinet and finding your toothpaste turned into a pretzel.
It is adaptation.
Love is sitting at the window, looking out, and remembering who you were with the night before.
It is reflection.
Love is hearing the weather forecast for a winter storm, and wishing you could spend it in bed with your lover.
It is loneliness.
Love is stories that will never be told.
It is personal.
(Source: healingeagle.net)
Christian the Lion ♥ I will forever remember you, for you are in my heart forever more. :)
I’ve learned
I’ve learned that you cannot make someone love you.
All you can do is be someone who can be loved.
The rest is up to them.
I’ve learned that no matter how much I care,
some people just don’t care back.
And it’s not the end of the world.
I’ve learned that it takes years to build up trust,
and only seconds to destroy it.
I’ve learned that it’s not what you have in your life,
but who you have in your life that counts.
I’ve learned that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes.
After that, you’d better know something.
I’ve learned that you shouldn’t compare yourself
to the best others can do,
but to the best you can do.
I’ve learned that it’s not what happens to people,
It’s what they do about it.
I’ve learned that no matter how thin you slice it,
there are always two sides.
I’ve learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words.
It may be the last time you see them.
I’ve learned that you can keep going
long after you think you can’t.
I’ve learned that heroes are the people who do what has to be done
When it needs to be done
regardless of the consequences.
I’ve learned that there are people who love you dearly,
but just don’t know how to show it.
I’ve learned that sometimes when I’m angry I have the right to be angry,
but that doesn’t give me the right to be cruel.
I’ve learned that true friendship continues to grow even over the longest distance.
Same goes for true love.
I’ve learned that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to
doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.
I’ve learned that no matter how good a friend is,
they’re going to hurt you every once in a while
and you must forgive them for that.
I’ve learned that it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others.
Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
I’ve learned that no matter how bad your heart is broken,
the world doesn’t stop for your grief.
I’ve learned that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are,
but we are responsible for who we become.
I’ve learned that just because two people argue, it doesn’t mean that they don’t love each other.
And just because they don’t argue, it doesn’t mean they do.
I’ve learned that sometimes you have to put the individual
ahead of their actions.
I’ve learned that two people can look at the exact same thing
and see something totally different.
I’ve learned that no matter the consequences,
those who are honest with themselves get farther in life.
I’ve learned that your life can be changed in a matter of hours
by people who don’t even know you.
I’ve learned that even when you think you have no more to give,
when a friend cries out to you,
you will find the strength to help.
I’ve learned that writing,
as well as talking,
can ease emotional pains.
I’ve learned that the people you care most about in life
are taken from you too soon.
I’ve learned that it’s hard to determine where to draw the line between being nice
and not hurting people’s feelings and standing up for what you believe.
I’ve learned to love
and be loved.
I’ve learned…
Omer B. Washington
(Source: thylacineslair.com)
