talking in riddles is my way of honesty


some people cry. some people sleep. some smoke and do drugs. others go out for a run. others read books to pass the time. we have varying tendencies, but at the end of the day we know we are all just yearning for one thing: escape. (escape from certain memories, certain losses, certain responsibilities. escape from the eternal misery of life as it is.) these are our vanishing acts. we live by not living. 

“Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.”
Rainer Maria Rilke, The Book of Hours (via notebookings)
“What a strange illusion it is to suppose that beauty is goodness.”
Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (via murmurrs)

why ed sheeran is a lyrical genius

  1. ed: it's alright to die cause death is the only thing you haven't tried but just for tonight hold on
  2. ed: when my hair's all but gone and my memory fades and the crowds don't remember my name when my hands don't play the same strings the same way i know you will still love me the same
  3. ed: i don't get waves of missing you anymore they're more like tsunami tides in my eyes
  4. ed: you can fit me inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen next to your heartbeat where i should be keep it deep within your soul
“When I’m old and gray, I want to have a house by the sea. And paint. With a lot of wonderful chums, good music, and booze around. And a damn good kitchen to cook in.”
Ava Gardner  (via thatkindofwoman)

Couple on a subway. Photo by Stanley Kubrick, 1946.


Couple on a subway. Photo by Stanley Kubrick, 1946.


Melanin | 2014


Melanin | 2014


India Bourne || Ben Howard || Outside Lands Music Festival (2014)


India Bourne || Ben Howard || Outside Lands Music Festival (2014)

“It’s a funny thing… but people mostly have it backward. They think they live by what they want. But really, what guides them is what they’re afraid of. What they don’t want.”
And the Mountains Echoed (Khaled Hosseini)
Everybody Wants To Rule The World
Lorde — 2,691 plays


everybody wants to rule the world || lorde

there’s a room where the light won’t find you
holding hands while the walls come tumbling down
when they do i’ll be right behind you
so glad we’ve almost made it, so sad we had to fade it

When I start wishing for things I can never have,
that’s when I know I’ve read enough for the night.
My mouth will taste like places I’ve never been to,
and my mind will lie to me, as it always does.

Symbols will flash across my skin like restless tattoos,
daring me to leave, to never look back,
to wake up in a different bed every morning,
knowing full well I can’t.

My heart will burn like it’s made of paper,
because everything, all this, looked better in my head.

I used to want this to be a poem about hope,
but how can I lie to myself?
My record is full of hours wasted
looking for things that aren’t even there.

Here, the impressive lack of variety.
The dutiful adherence to routine.
A cry to be somewhere else.
Not here. Not this.

I’m still afraid of the ocean,
when all I want is to be afraid for it.
I’m still afraid of the silence,
but is it not my best defense?

I’d like to think about hope,
but I only remember the kittens my father buried
in a vacant lot,
how “their bodies will make the plants grow,” was supposed to be any consolation.

All I remember is leaving,
and the suffocating grip of still not knowing how to let go.
Help me be more than this, I plead.
And then watch me leave.

Maybe more, maybe more.
Maybe this is nonsense.
Everybody knows that the notes we write
our future daughters are just the things we’re not
brave enough to tell ourselves.

N.L., Nowhere Girl (via toborrowtime)


They tell you it’s okay
but they
when you try to be brave.

“We’re growing older and saner
but I am floating backwards,
mastering the art of memory,
so when you disappear,
as you very well should,
my head could conjure an image of you
that is so much more of a vision
than anything you have ever been.”
#02, N.L.

Nicole, 17, Philippines

I am studying Journalism at the University of the Philippines-Diliman. My heart belongs to the works of author Neil Gaiman and singer-songwriter Ben Howard, and to the endlessly absorbing struggles of living. I've never been to a concert in my life. I can't swim, but I am in love with the ocean.

"Comfort came against my will; every story must grow old" is the inspiration behind my blog title. It's a line from Ben Howard's song called 'Black Flies.'

Talk to me, will ya?

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