norwegian wood

“Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem.”

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"I’m tired, can’t think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity."

- Franz Kafka in his letters to Milena Jesenská (via quotable-notable)

(via alaskasmoonlight)

"She stopped aiming for forever when she realized that he is never meant to stay with her that long. She gave up her hopes of having a happy ever after with him when it dawned on her that he is never bound to end up with her. She learned to live in the moment, feeling every single butterfly flutter in her stomach when she sees him smile. She locked away her fears of a future without him and threw the key. She learned to enjoy and cherish every touch, every kiss, every stare, every word uttered because she doesn’t know when they would stop coming. She brushed away her feeling of jealousy from all the girls that he talked and shared a laugh with and focused on the assurances that his love gives her. She became selfless. She gave her all so she won’t regret anything when everything would come to an end. She knew, somehow, that he is destined to leave her, to break her, to kill her inside, but she still can’t stop falling in love with his smile, his laugh, the way he reaches out to pull stray strands of hair from her face, the way he tells her he loves her so much. She knew his promises of forever would end up getting broken but still, she doesn’t want to give him up. She is still hoping against all odds that in another lifetime, in another world, in a different story, she’ll have her never ending fairy tale with him."

- maybe in another lifetime, she could keep him (m.b)

(via alaskasmoonlight)


It’s 11pm and all I wish is that you will show up at my front door and make your way into my bed so I don’t have to sleep alone.

It’s 12am and I know you will not show up at my doorstep, but I still wish to fall asleep on your chest, listening to your heart beat synchronized with my own.

It’s 1am and all I want is to sleep, but I still feel your fingers laced between my own and yearn for your hands in my own and the feelings that your touch allows.

It’s 2 am and all I want is your lips on mine. I can still feel where they were, without them, mine feel naked.

It’s 3 am and all I wish is to hear your voice, listen to you say anything and everything, listen to you tell me ‘I love you.’

It’s 4am and all I want is to fall into a deep sleep and meet you in my dreams.

It’s 5am and I’m lonely.

It’s 6am and all I want is to hear from you, letting me know that another sleepless night has passed as you wanted me the same way I have wanted you.

It’s 7am and I have to face another day, tired, waiting, missing, loving you.

It’s 8am and now I can only hope that I have entered your mind as many times as you have entered mine.


- Another Sleepless Night by Sarah (via sarahandkaedyn)

(via alaskasmoonlight)


Write about the One
who makes the skies
absolutely beautiful.

Write about the One
who calmed
every storm in your heart.

Write about the One
who holds you closely
to Himself—

every moment,
whatever the time,
never missing
any big or little thing,
even your every breath.


- Pam Carbungco, Even in a storm (via godsradicaldaughter)

(Source: godsradicaldaughter, via alaskasmoonlight)


Monochromatic, Minimalist, and Abstract Tattoos by DotsToLines

(via adaptatiom)


I want to do things with my life but I also want to bury myself in a forest and let the moss grow over me so where does that leave us

(via adaptatiom)


"Describe your style" 

anything on sale

(via cumfort)

"I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions."

- Augusten Burroughs, Magical Thinking: True Stories (via wordsnquotes)

(via wordsnquotes)




I just want the love that I learned about when I whispered to the roses and watched them blush while they shook their petals and spoke about the kind of people who would pluck them - because goddamn imagine the love in us weak-fingered starlovers who let ourselves bleed on beach thorns just so we can hand over a slightly wilted bloom to the person we adore

imagine a love like that, i said to him. imagine a love like the kind i’m always writing about, always finding in the pages of books, always seeing in the way city streets love nature enough they force flowers through every crack they can. imagine a love like how the night sky loves the snow so much that up in the arctic it always dances, imagine a love like how bumble bees love flowers and their queens, imagine a love that other people will think looks like poetry. imagine a love like that.

i heard of a man who met a girl and from that day on was writing her letters because he knew from that moment she would one day be his everything and he sometimes wrote only a sentence sometimes a hundred can you just imagine the kind of force that guides a pen through all that writing can you imagine the kind of love soaking into that paper i mean can you imagine the quick ones that just say “it’s june third and i love you” and the long ones that wax lyrical on the soft arch of her eyebrows can you imagine the torn notebook sheets with doodles in the margins where he penned her sonnets during math can you imagine the starbucks receipts where the back just says “today i am running on coffee because i love talking to you more than i love sleep” can you imagine him taping pictures and ribbons and pieces of grass as little reminders: here is where we kissed for the first time, you used to wear this around your wrist, this grass was the greenest i’d ever seen and we had a picnic in a field that looked like it was out of a movie - i mean can you imagine the love can you feel it

i want a love like that i want a love that hurts to look at and hurts to touch and hurts to hold in my chest

but just looking at you sets me on fire and i’d rather watch how the light crosses your face than really pay attention to the sunset and i’ve been to art museums but nothing struck me as beautiful as the way you look first thing in the morning when you wake up and roll over and give me that half-smile of sleepy contentment and i’ve studied science for years but i haven’t found an explanation on how it’s possible every day my love self-replicates and i’ve been a poet for only about two years now but good lord i think i can imagine a love that feels like a summer storm because i’ve written literally thousands of poems and they’re all just your name respun and i finally realized i’ve been writing to you since the day we met
and i know i know i know

i’ve found a love like that.


- A rose kind of love, a fight-through-the-thicket-for-you kind of love, a kind of love that would make poets blush. A kind of love where just being with you is enough. /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

(via alaskasmoonlight)





Filming a rainbow when suddenly.


what the fuck

The gays are angry

"It’s 3.47am and I miss you just like I did last week at 2.15 in the afternoon when I remembered the last time you told me you wanted me and you meant it. It’s 3.47am and I should be sleeping but all I can think about is how you used to smile when I told you you were beautiful and the way you held me tight and said you would never let me go but I guess things change and people move on and now you’re sleeping and I’m lying awake thinking about you."

- I wish I was sleeping - 3.47am 06/05/14 (via curiovsly)

(via g-y-p-s-y-h-e-a-r-t-s)

"You said
you loved
my eyes
but now,
they are

- Ming D. LiuThings you said to me pt. III (via mingdliu)

(via mingdliu)