Truth has very few friends and those few are suicides– Antonio Porchia
Within the circles of our lives we dance the circles of the years, the circles of the seasons within the circles of the years, the cycles of the moon within the circles of the seasons, the circles of our reasons within the cycles of the moon. Again, again we come and go, changing, changed. Hands join, unjoin in love and fear, grief and joy. The circles turn, each giving into each,...
Have you ever had that feeling? That you’d like to go to a whole different place...– Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (via loveyourchaos)
dictionaryofobscuresorrows: n. the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like—as if all your social tastebuds suddenly went numb, leaving you unable to distinguish cheap politeness from the taste of genuine affection, unable to recognize its rich and ambiguous flavors, its long and delicate maturation, or the simple fact that each tasting is double-blind.