i am enough.

lukefitzphotography:

City aint so prestine. SF 2013.

Today my heart is achey.

It aches for lives I cannot live. For people loved and lost, and those tumbling out of my hands, like sand slipping through the cracks of my grasp, my heart, my life.

It aches for an undetermined future. For a past I miss. For a present I don’t understand.

And all I can tell myself, over and over, as each heavy drop rolls down the length of my cheek, is that this is temporary, that I will be home soon, and the future will unfold, and I will remember the feel of my own skin, and there will be love and laughter and the instinctive grasping of tiny hands around my weather-worn fingers.

(via sfcitylights)

leemrsmn:(via palmist)

Some people aren’t even worth the bruises and scrapes on my fist that it would take for me to sock them, squarely, in the jaw. Even when really, that’s what I am aching to do with every fiery fiber of myself. If only shrink rays were real and could be controlled remotely, by satellite. *flick* into the ocean with you, to be swallowed up by the cool dark depths, leaving this world to the rest of us who at the very least try. 

(Source: garoto-que-te-conquista, via lvmrsmn)

"We cannot enjoy life if we spend our time and energy worrying about what happened yesterday and what will happen tomorrow. If we’re afraid all the time, we miss out on the wonderful fact that we’re alive and can be happy right now."

Thích Nhất Hạnh (via creatingaquietmind)

Sometimes I don’t even remember what I’m afraid of…and what the hell is the point in being afraid of something unknown? Unknown is just that, not known. It may be fear worthy. Or not. It may be inspiring. It may lift your soul above the clouds. It may warm you, from the inside out. It may be the best steak you’ve ever sunk your teeth into. The best chocolate cake that ever rolled past your lips and onto your tongue. Why on Earth, or in the stars above, would anyone want to fear delicious? Or even the possibility of delicious? And that is what I need to remember - not what I’m afraid of, but how to let go of that fear - for the possibility of delicious. 

(Source: larmoyante, via hennnypotter)

fer1972:

Adam Pękalski

love can be such a curious thing sometimes. you think you know your heart one day and then the next you have no idea what it’s thinking or feeling or doing. falling in love with someone, particularly from afar, can be even stranger, because half the time you don’t even know who or what exactly you’re falling in love with, and yet there you are, falling, all the same, and just as hard. in this day and age long distance communication is hardly a barrier, but still, you get to know somebody differently in person versus over the computer or phone. conversations take on a different flavor and flow. topics weave in and out of one another with seemingly no relation to one another and yet in a coordinated dance that makes all the difference. from afar you learn things almost by accident and sometimes they hit you, like a ton of bricks. you’re left to interpret and wonder about vague sensations or ideas, left to marinate with your own foggy thoughts, until the next time you’re able to talk. it can be challenging. it can also be just as beautiful, maybe even more so, when that person consistently demonstrates that they are exactly the person you thought they were and remind you time and time again exactly why and how they first captured your heart. 

I hold these truths to be self-evident;

Always be wary of someone who asks you to keep too many secrets, especially from their family.

And

Never trust a man who lies to his mother’s face.

We all curate;

it’s the nature of the beast. 

But I like open windows, 

and fresh breezes that fill my lungs,

and open doors, 

that let in the sun. 

I don’t like worrying,

or holding tight for fear of slipping. 

I like holding tight because in that moment,

I can’t think of anything that could possibly be better. 

I believe in genuine.

And honest. 

To oneself most of all. 

(Source: lonelyfrenchtraveller, via elistarlight)

I started writing about anger. 

Earlier today I got angry.

The fire in my belly angry at the fact that I’m even angry kind of angry. 

Sometimes I get angry, I wish I didn’t, I wish I could be one of those perfectly zen yogis who just breathes out negativity and breathes in peace, a window, easy, breezy, beautiful covergirl, but I’m not. I’m just a regular girl, and sometimes, even as I strive for peace and balance, sometimes I get tripped up, and sometimes I get angry. 

Someone advised me to own my anger. To feel it. Fully. 

And then to release it. 

I was still working on the feeling it part, dreading the releasing, because I’m bad at letting go, even of anger. 

But then I got a phone call from someone I haven’t talked to in far too long who told me something so happy I barely even noticed as the anger just melted away. 

The fire that had been burning through my hands as I clung to it just disappeared into smoke as the enormity of my smile spread from my face out to the ends of my hair and down to the tips of my toes. 

I am so grateful for the amazing people in my life. People who remind me that the things and people who make me angry aren’t even worth the calories spent on typing out the letters; a n g r y. People who remind me that there is so much more, that life is beautiful, and that love is real. So incredibly grateful. 

"To hell with them. Nothing hurts if you don’t let it."

Ernest Hemingway (via everythingyoulovetohate)

When I read this I read it with one extra word. It wasn’t until the third read that I realized it didn’t say in. As in; 

To hell with them. Nothing hurts if you don’t let it in. 

I think that says a lot about me. And how sometimes my hurt is from letting in. But I can’t regret that. I can’t regret believing in another human. Even if just for a moment. 

(Source: saddest-summer, via hennnypotter)

mydarkenedeyes:

Ink paintings by Katherine Smith-Schad.

This weekend was beautiful. I am tired. My throat is sore. I am overwhelmed with the length of my to-do list and feel the weight of it all as I sit, slumped, in front of my computer. But even as my fingers type out these words, I feel my spine straighten behind me, and I feel confidence in my own strength. I rub my eyes, and I see, through the smoke of all our muckings, that humanity is beautiful. And I feel the warm glow of gratitude well in my chest for the amazing people I’ve been fortunate enough to encounter in my life; those who have been, and will be for years, and those who step briefly, in, and out, like a new dance move I don’t quite understand. 

Sometimes things are not what you expect them to be. Or how you expect them to be. Or who. Sometimes you have to drive in circles a few times and then stop to ask for directions, because even though you know you’re close, the road is closed for construction, and you need to find a new way around. Sometimes every bar you go to is closed or closing, except for one, but it’s loud, and you sort of mill behind the stacks of people waiting to be served because you actually don’t really even want a drink you just want a space, to talk, and it’s too loud for talking in here anyways, so maybe instead you’ll drive down by the lake and park. Sometimes you decide that 2am is as good a time as any to go through your drawers and closets and pull out piles of things to give away, and you find yourself, sitting on the edge of your bed holding a shirt, an unbelievably soft, threadbare shirt, and you realize that this shirt is your security blanket and yes, you’re thirty years old and apparently have a security blanket, but that that’s ok because sometimes we all need to feel secure. 

(Source: bodacia, via room42)