“We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot.”
“ Los seres humanos podemos ser felices en un instante, pero un instante es una ventana hacia la eternidad ”
Octavio Paz (via elcielosobremi)
“ Let set the sunlight,
I have no fear of darkness
when you are here too. ”
if you close your eyes right before the train hits, your brain will think that you have died. some people find calmness in this.
I always reblog this I just love it so much
okay listen. A train is coming towards you. You close your eyes. The train stops coming towards you. You haven’t died. Your brain is really freaking relieved that the train is not coming towards you anymore. That’s why you feel calm. Brains aren’t so stupid that they think you’ve died just because everything is black. It might have felt a bit stressed by seeing that there is a large vehicle travelling towards you, because sometimes it can have problems with understanding things outside of you and telling what’s real and what isn’t. But your brain perfectly aware that your heart is still beating and your lungs are still breathing and blood is still travelling around your body. That’s it’s job. You don’t feel calm because you “died”, you feel calm because you’re ALIVE.
Can we stop glorifying suicidal thoughts now please?
No matter what happens, you will always have an ancient part right in the middle of your human brain, somewhere that you have no access to, that wants nothing more than for you to stay alive.
"Brains aren’t so stupid that they think you’ve died just because everything is black."
Patchwork upcycled furniture by namedesignstudio in Istanbul, Turkey.
Playful and beautiful Jean Seberg in Breathless (1960) dir. by Jean-Luc Godard
“I’m in love with people’s hands and the way they clench their fists and the way their fingertips lightly press down onto piano keys or thighs. Calloused fingers or dainty fingers. Hands writing poems or memos or parking tickets. Hands writing futures. To me, every crease on the palm is a love line.” — Mesogeios