May 2012
60 posts
I have found at the end of myself, that there were still roads leading me back right back to the beginning, and after, what then? To drop everything and to sit and look at the moon, the only passivity and calm that tries to evoke any lasting perfect serenity of the situation; I don’t want to live with a mess in my mind everyday but the curiosity is good, good for me.
There were chances to prove what they really felt, but they didn’t take it.
Bright Star by John Keats
Tom Hiddleston
Tom Hiddleston reads Bright Star by John Keats
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
I knew you were secretly in reality a demi-god
I think there are many things to be unsure of but that doesn’t mean that you don’t believe in them for a bit. I’m certain everyone is unsure of something or some part of their life everyday when circumstances require them to think and weigh their choices and decisions over.
It doesn’t mean they don’t try. And it doesn’t mean they won’t work it out.
“I promise to plant kisses like seeds on your body, so in time you can grow to love yourself as I love you.”
—Tyler Knott Gregson
The world continues spinning for them on a silver platter served with only the best and most expensive utensils while we sit in a corner watching the scene play out like in a movie theatre, it’s there, it’s real in the film, but not in reality; we the audience can’t touch it, we can only feel and long for something we can see but so distant like a star we cannot hold.
I will remember that small window
Bridging the light to the soft of your back
and the slender of your curves,
The wind that swept through the grills of iron,
touching lightly upon the hairs of your body
and the way your hair stood like a million electric sparks had alighted,
from the heavens to bless you
The way the moon was grinning in contentment at the
long awaited slumber of our souls;
When you opened your eyes with the heaviness of sleep,
still lingering upon your eyelids
The exact moment, stop.
The way they fluttered cautiously first, open, and then close again,
a few times to make the magic last;
And the way the rain started coming down from the great dark orange sky,
filled with desire and love,
Mostly love
