Melancholy

Just a collection of things that I like, things that say something about me.

You must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life.

—Mary Oliver, Wild Geese (via observando)

512

The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity… and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.

—William Blake (via observando)

289
mi-shellvp:

estasfuera:

“A little bit of Monica in my life,A little bit of Erica by my side,A little bit of Rita is all I need,A little bit of Tina is what I see,A little bit of Sandra in the sun,A little bit of Mary all night long,A little bit of Jessica, here I am…”

If you don’t know this reference, you’re definitely too young for me. 

mi-shellvp:

estasfuera:

“A little bit of Monica in my life,
A little bit of Erica by my side,
A little bit of Rita is all I need,
A little bit of Tina is what I see,
A little bit of Sandra in the sun,
A little bit of Mary all night long,
A little bit of Jessica, here I am…”

If you don’t know this reference, you’re definitely too young for me. 

(via ifeelmydemonsmisleadingme)

If I could,
I would turn girls into dragons.

Girls whose skin
has been stained by filthy hands,
girls who are forced
to face those familiar hands
day after day,

give them armor.

Girls who are told
that womanhood means duty,
who dig
and sweat
and carry
and labor,
girls who break their backs
on someone else’s burden,

give them spiked spines.

Girls trapped in cycles:
cycles of abuse
addiction
poverty
pain
cycles they can’t even name,
cycling
cycling
down the drain
and thrown out with the bathwater,

give them claws.

Girls
who chomp down on fear
hiding behind their teeth,
who swallow it whole
because it’s the only nourishment they’ll get,

give them razor fangs.

Girls
who thirst for knowledge
in the middle of a drought,
girls whose minds
are considered as real as their suffering,

give them fire
to burst from their mouths
in place of the words that no one hears.

Girls
whose bodies are not their own;
who are meant for decoration
and cannot decorate themselves,
who are meant for pleasure
and cannot pleasure themselves,
who are meant to be examples
and cannot exemplify themselves,

give them wings
to fly far, far away,

taste freedom in the sky,
and see it for what it should be:
a right, not a privilege.

Every girl
who is considered a possession
or a prize
or a plaything,

who lives
confined by people
who call condescension “love”
and manipulation “compromise”
and fear “respect”
and silence “consent,”

give her eyes
that strike terror into the heart
of anyone who would call her weak.

Gift girls with dragonhood
when personhood is a myth.

If you can’t fight and you can’t flee, flow.

—Robert Elias (via observando)

909

He compared her to the moon.
She compared him to the sun.
But they could never touch,
So the stars and clouds whispered,
Passing along their messages
And the ocean was their witness

—An affair across the sky (via anakinvaders)

(Source: clairewords, via ifeelmydemonsmisleadingme)

slayboybunny:

i refuse to be shamed for having a body. i refuse to get embarrassed when a tampon falls out of my purse or spend a whole day anxious about if someones going to notice that i forgot to shave a patch of leg hair. i wasnt put on this earth to spend my time apologizing for my existence and i refuse to let anyone make me feel like i have to waste my energy on all that petty shit

(via ifeelmydemonsmisleadingme)