If you’ve ever walked outside your house to
find it was gloriously warm outside, with the trees all green and smelling nicely gently waving and the sun settling down.
The summer is coming and beautiful, warm nights are in sight where you can cuddle by a bonfire on the beach.
And you looked at the sun settling, surrounding you with warm orange and pink colors, hugging you with its sweet apricot nectar and still you thought,
“Well, FUCK OFF Sun I still want to hide under my bed until I am nothing more but an inorganic feature of the world,..”
then you’ve been in that dark place where I so often visit.
No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.
Gautama Buddha (via letteratura-litterature)
I OFTEN think upon the divinity of the tallest, greenest trees and wonder: would they have me to be part of them, so close to the heavens, to be embraced by the sun, to be cradled to sleep each night by the stars? I think not, since I am not so pure of joy, instead I am full of worry, and worry is anti-life.
7. “no, not at all”
with all the flowers blooming
the sun extending its warm,
the world, like a joy, air like blood,
yet, here I am, sad as ever
contemplating you and the things
I’ve done because of having known you,
and having loved you, and my ruining us,
and your breaking me apart,
contemplating myself and what I’ve done
because I am fickle, and I have not changed,
I am the same baboon, broken and full of shame,
I have not changed, no, not at all.
And that’s the scariest part of all.