Just Katieeoh

You are like a beautiful flower in a bunch of sharp thorns. Then I realized that the thorns are also you, lingering in your heart, never wanting to go away, because it’s stuck. 

And you can’t let go. 

You just can’t. 

“People empty me. I have to get away to refill.”

-Charles Bukowski

“What I feel I shouldn’t show you,
so when you’re around I won’t;
I know I’ve no right to feel it,
but it doesn’t mean I don’t.”

— Lang Leav

Photo by Michal Zahornacky

I wonder every time I wake up in the morning if you had a good night sleep. 

That maybe the sunrise gave you hope for another pleasant day ahead.

Then I will be sitting here if you don’t mind, just watching the sun rise up with it’s ever beautiful glory. And wonder what you are thinking. I close my eyes.

I will let you die. 

I will let you die in my mind and be vanished. 

I will let you be in peace, and free you from my scattered thoughts.

Then I can finally breathe and start my morning without regrets. 

My worries will be gone, all my sorry will be forgotten.

I will let you slip off my fingers and see you wander around as light as a feather, finding a new place to drop by. 

The burden will be gone.

You will be gone. 

And you won’t be found again. 

I open my eyes.

I feel the heat wrapped around my face, yet the chills still linger on my shoulders, as if hugging me from all the burden I have just let go of. 

All will be good.

But tonight I’m going to cry myself to sleep.

Because tomorrow, I will let you die again. 

aseaofquotes:

Lois Lowry, The Giver

I love painters. 

I love visiting art galleries and spend time ogling at the most peculiar, odd looking paintings and all the rather most beautiful ones in the bunch. I love chatting with the painters, of such thoughts they presume and happiness in their tone whenever they explain their work in front of you.

Such bliss.

In fact, I wonder what’s inside a painters mind? 

I always think about the painter, before the paintings.

I think they’re too reserved, their mind is too introverted and they have a way of looking and defining things. They have this artistic mind that always seems like a natural “zen” to almost everything. Not trying to sound like they’re a monk here, but, I just wonder everytime I look a painting, I try to guess what the painter was thinking when they were painting it. 

One day, I will have to get to spend a whole day with a painter and I will be able to understand. 

Darling, I don’t care. I just don’t. 

aseaofquotes:

Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

Submitted by tastingchaos.