Confessions of An Almost Grown Up

maybeimalittledifferent asked: Could your write a poem about the willing to travel?

alibis-not-needed-anymore:

i live in
luxembourg.
i would not need
six steps of
acquaintance
to get from me
to every other
person in this
tiny rainy
country;
it would not
take more than
sixty minutes
to get to three
other countries
from my house.
i can measure
my life here
in thimblefuls.

but travelling!—things are brighter in other places, they smell stronger, they feel softer—or spikier—and sunsets are more vivid, and sunrises more tender, and food spicier or sweeter, dripping honey, or saltier—the languages are spicier or sweeter too and more full of laughter, and while the buses often do not come on time like the clockwork precision of the luxembourg transport network, they are packed full of people with strange hair and clothes who smile at strangers like me and are all going different places where things taste, smell, and feel different. travelling!—

nonetheless,
returning here
(despite the
weather, the
uptightness)
is like returning
to a mothertongue
having learned
to speak five others;
but none to
fluency.

Just because you miss someone, it doesn’t mean you should go back to them. Sometimes you have to just keep missing them until you wake up one morning and realise that you don’t anymore.

—Unknown (via exoticwild)

(Source: these-greatexpectations, via a-thousand-words)

A bouquet of clumsy words: you know that place between sleep and awake where you’re still dreaming but it’s slowly slipping? I wish we could feel like that more often. I also wish I could click my fingers three times and be transported to anywhere I like. I wish that people didn’t always say ‘just wondering’ when you both know there was a real reason behind them asking. And I wish I could get lost in the stars.

Listen, there’s a hell of a good universe next door, let’s go.

—E.E. Cummings (via wordsthat-speak)

(via silver-angels-s)

I think she’s special. She doesn’t need anyone. Like that’s the thing. Even if we were together, she wouldn’t really belong to me. She doesn’t belong to anything. She’s off in her own world…

—Childish Gambino (via heyitsmayra)  (via yungella)

(Source: thestyledjungle, via a-thousand-words)

madmanthoughttheywerebatman:

I know you might not feel so great at the moment but one day you’re going to look back to this time in your life and think ”that was a really hard time for me, but I got through it and I’m so glad I did”

(via maybeimalittledifferent)

She said, ‘I’m so afraid.’ And I said, ‘why?,’ and she said, ‘Because I’m so profoundly happy. Happiness like this is frightening.’ I asked her why and she said, ‘They only let you be this happy if they’re preparing to take something from you.’

—Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner (2003)

(Source: larmoyante, via a-thousand-words)

humansofnewyork:

"I wasn’t lucky enough to have ever found what I wanted to do. Don’t get me wrong— I did nicely. But I never found my passion."

humansofnewyork:

"I wasn’t lucky enough to have ever found what I wanted to do. Don’t get me wrong— I did nicely. But I never found my passion."

What if, in another universe, I deserve you?

Hear me out. There’s this philosopher from the 1890s named William James, and he coined this theory about “the multiverse” which suggests that a hypothetical set of multiple universes comprises everything that can possibly exist simultaneously.

Are you following? The entirety of space, time, matter and energy is all happening at once in different timelines: It’s the idea of parallel universes. Right? So okay, let’s presume the multiverse is real.

Well then, maybe somewhere in those infinite universes is one, or several, where I deserve you.

Maybe there’s a universe out there — happening now — where we end up together and when I close my eyes at night, I’m not dreaming the way a normal person would. Instead I’m seeing flashes of our lives in the multiverse. They’re not simple dreams because I miss you, right? They’re scientific, anachronistic visions.

For instance:

In this universe, I don’t want a family, but maybe in another, I’m more of the type to settle down. Maybe there’s a universe where you hold my hand while I give birth to our daughter in a white hospital room with pink flowers and fuzzy teddy bears on the window sill. Where we take family vacations and pose for dorky pictures in our neon bathing suits on the sands of a Florida beach. Where we curl up to watch a cheesy movie at the end of a long day in our big, green, suburban house once the kids have fallen asleep.

Maybe there’s a universe where we are middle-aged and taking our child to college and bickering over where to put her dresser or what posters she should hang up. Where you kiss her on the forehead ‘goodbye’ and we drive home in contented, proud silence, your fingers grazing my knuckles, our wedding rings glistening. Where we both have gray hair and we laugh and smile and hug and drink lemonade on the porch.

Maybe there’s a universe where that’s the life I want. Where I don’t second guess everything and I’m not afraid of commitment and of the future and of love. Maybe there’s a universe without all the noise in my head and the pride that makes me so fiercely independent and the coldness in my heart that I can turn on and off like a security fence.

Maybe there’s a universe where I’m the right person for you. Where I adore every nice thing you did for me without starting to resent you. A universe where you actually end up with someone who appreciates you. Where no one becomes a doormat. Where both of us can shed our baggage and curiosity and issues. A universe where we’re happy — without wondering if that happiness is some messed-up Jenga game ready to topple at the slightest quiver. A universe where we’re comfortable and sure, and we have cats.

Maybe there’s a universe where we fall asleep next to each other every night like spoons, like two innocent bunnies — my face buried in your neck, hugging your warmth — and we both don’t want anything or anybody else. Where we don’t want more, we just want each other.

Maybe there’s a universe where I don’t covet so much all the time and where I’m content and where I don’t wonder about picking up and moving to Japan without saying anything to anyone and where at this very juncture, I can just know I’ll always want to come home and cook dinner with you.

If you think of it all this way, then it’s like neither of us did anything wrong.

You just found me in the wrong universe. That’s all. This is, as they say, the darkest timeline. Everywhere else, nay, “everywhen” else — us in the Civil War, us in Ancient Egypt, us in the swinging ’60s — we are happy.

If this theory holds, well, by the law of averages, there had to be one universe — just this one — where we don’t end up together. Here and now just happens to be it. If you think of it this way, nothing is our fault.

So see, that explains everything. We’re not together anymore because of the multiverse.

Well, isn’t that comforting?

If you’re sad, do like I do and just think of the other ‘verses. The ones where I believe in love and where I don’t hate myself and where I never feel the need to kamikaze relationships. A universe where we can have nice things. It’s helpful, right?

Because you could have loved me forever. And maybe in another universe, I let you.

humansofnewyork:

"I want to be a captain in the ESU— it’s New York’s equivalent of a Swat Team. You know how a lot of kids grow up watching cartoons, and dreaming of being super heroes so that they can save people? Well, I never grew out of that.""So what’s your super power?""I’m good at making contingency plans. Like when Batman made a contingency plan in case any member of the Justice League went rogue.""So what’s been your greatest contingency plan so far?""I didn’t get into the school of my choice, so I’m in community college now."

humansofnewyork:

"I want to be a captain in the ESU— it’s New York’s equivalent of a Swat Team. You know how a lot of kids grow up watching cartoons, and dreaming of being super heroes so that they can save people? Well, I never grew out of that."
"So what’s your super power?"
"I’m good at making contingency plans. Like when Batman made a contingency plan in case any member of the Justice League went rogue."
"So what’s been your greatest contingency plan so far?"
"I didn’t get into the school of my choice, so I’m in community college now."