Status: chill
Joined: March 13, 2012
Last Seen: 3 years
Birthday: December 22
user id: 283523
Location: o
Gender: F

No home, no bed. Nowhere to hang my head


ChocoTaco's Favorite Quotes


but if the earth ends in fire                                                                                                                    & the seas are frozen in time
                                                                                               there'll be just one survivor:                                                                                                                  the memory that i was yours
                                                                                                              and you were mine.


   When I first started climbing the tree of love, I knew better than to pick the fruit hanging lowest from the tree, the fruit  that I didn't want because I am not desperate.
   But as I climbed further and further up, I began to find it more and more difficult to get what I wanted from the tree. My friends wanted me to pick perfectly good fruit that I never ended up picking because it didn't feel right. I was too unsure of whether the fruit was right for me even though the   fruit clearly wanted me. I want to take risks, I want to get out of my comfort zone, but I am still too scared to pick fruit that isn't as round as I'd usually go for because I am not particularly impressed by it initially.
     Yet the fruit I was sure about, the fruit that gave me butterflies in my stomach, the fruit that I felt in my heart was right for me and what I truly wanted, I tried to pick it. But it wouldn't budge. Later on, I tried again with a different fruit that gave me the same feelings. The stem cracked from the branch but refused to detach from it. My heart was broken. It broke even more when I saw girls who wanted those same fruits that gave me butterflies and made my heart race pick them with ease. Hell, those fruits almost fell on their faces. More fruit started to call for me but I didn't pick them because none of them made me feel the way other fruit did.
   And that's when I asked myself, "Should I pick what I don't particularly care for much? Is it worth it? Is it worth not feeling butterflies for someone who treats you well and understands you but doesn't give you that "feeling" inside? Is continuing to climb this tree going to hurt me in the end? Will I die before I reach the top because I never picked a fruit? Do I even deserve fruit, am I too picky to pick fruit? Will I ever find a
fruit I am sure about, fruit that gives me butterflies in my stomach, fruit that I feel in my heart is right for me and what I truly want that will fall off of the tree just for me?"
     I don't know the answer to any of this, but I am starting to think maybe the tree of love just wasn't meant for me to climb.

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“Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer.”

Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

does creation end when brokenness mends? does inspiration stop when darkness stops or slows? only time can tell...


. Format © dontsellyourselfshort

"She was right.
              She never looked nice. She looked like art, 
              and art wasn't supposed to look nice; 
              it was supposed to make you feel something."


"Whenever feasible, 
              one should always try to eat the rude."


We live in a world where an object's value is judged by how mint a condition it is in; there must be no frayed edges or cracks in the porcelain and the engine should run without ever stalling but sweetheart I need you to know that this law does not also apply to human beings. See I need your recovering addictions and your occasional madness, I love you for your overuse of cursing and near-debilitating sadness. I don't want to f.ucking fix you — I want to be smashed alongside your pieces till my pieces and your pieces make something close to a whole. I would sooner see the universe collapse than have you forced into becoming somebody you're not. See we are all soldiers in the same s.hitty war and though I would never fire your bullets I'd jump on godd.amn grenades for you. Because I am not here to fix or save you — this is me letting you know that people are not hospitals, they are harnesses; I'll only catch you when you fall.
     — Beau Taplin, Brokenhearted Roadshow