Bilderliebe & Inspiration

So tear me open and pour me out
There's things inside that scream and shout
And the pain still hates me
So hold me until it sleeps

Sometimes I just need someone to show they care
because fuck it gets lonely here
in the dark corners of my brain
and I don't want to feel this lost and broken anymore
- please hold me and show me that I am more than what I feel

Don't hate your body because it's too fat or too thin;
 hate it because it's a prison of flesh and its existence is meaningless.

 If you are lucky enough to find a weirdo never let them go.

"But don't forget the songs that made you cry
and the songs that saved your life"
- The Smiths

As humans we ruin everything we touch including each other.

I know what Kurt Cobain meant when he sang
"I miss the comfort of being sad"
I've felt so bad for so long
that when I'm not feeling bad
I don't feel anythning at all.

I finally understood as moonlight hit my room at 4 am. Grown ups don't stop checking for monsters under their bed because they are fearless, they just know where the monsters hide. They lurk in our heads, shifting from a gooey five-eyed creature to the familiar hisses of sadness, anxiety and self-doubt.
They are just as scary as anything hidden in a child's dark room. It took me months to learn that they are killers too.

'Cause you never think that the last time is the last time.
 You think there will be more.
You think you have forever but you don't.

Happiness in intellegent people is the rarest thing I know.

The sun loved the moon so much
he died every night to let her breathe.

You say you're 'depressed' - all i see is resilience. You are allowed to feel messed up and inside out. It doesn't mean you're defective - it just means you're human.

Wie kann etwas nach so langer Zeit immer noch so weh tun?

“What is an "instant" death anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.” 

“Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia. (...) You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you'll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.” 

“Thomas Edison's last words were 'It's very beautiful over there'. I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful.” 

Blowing out someone else's candle won't make yours shine brighter.

It's a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don't give it the power to do its killing.

Put me
underneath God's sky and
know me
don't just see me with your eyes
Take away
this mask of flesh and bone and
See me
for my soul
alone

“Sometimes we have thoughts that even we don't understand. Thoughts that aren't even true—that aren't really how we feel—but they're running through our heads anyway because they're interesting to think about.” 

“If my love were an ocean,
there would be no more land.
If my love were a desert,
you would see only sand.
If my love were a star-
late at night, only light.
And if my love could grow wings,
I'd be soaring in flight.”

Immer leben fürs fliegen doch sind geboren um zu rennen - und wir rennen.

After all, how often do we get a second chance?

“Betrayal. It's one of the worst feelings.

I hate not knowing what to believe anymore. I hate not knowing what's real.

There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it.

Without pain, how could we know joy?' This is an old argument in the field of thinking about suffering and its stupidity and lack of sophistication could be plumbed for centuries but suffice it to say that the existence of broccoli does not, in any way, affect the taste of chocolate.

I believe the universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is inprobably biased toward the consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed. And who am I, living in the middle of history, to tell the universe that it-or my observation of it-is temporary?

Much of my life had been devoted to trying not to cry in front of people who loved me, so I knew what Augustus was doing. You clench your teeth. You look up. You tell yourself that if they see you cry, it will hurt them, and you will be nothing but a Sadness in their lives, and you must not become a mere sadness, so you will not cry, and you say all of this to yourself while looking up at the ceiling, and then you swallow even though your throat does not want to close and you look at the person who loves you and smile.