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When people talk about traveling to the past, they worry about drastically changing the present by doing something small, but barely anyone in the present thinks that they can drastically change the future by doing something small
If no one comes back from the future to stop you, then how bad can it really be?
"When it’s over, leave. Don’t continue watering a dead flower."-
stuff that took me a while to understand #3 (via
)
(via judgedteenblogger)
(via coral)
You ever not talk to people you love to protect them from your energy at the moment?
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"I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?"- Ernest Hemingway
(via help-n-quotes)
(Source: help-n-quotes, via help-n-quotes)
What if Stephen Hawking’s computer got hacked a long time ago and nothing he says is really him
One of the most bittersweet feelings has to be when you realise how much you’re going to miss a moment, while you’re still living it.
1111 multiplied by 1111 being 1234321 is the mathematical equivalent of white light dispersing through a prism to make a rainbow.
(via gosh)
"- Pablo Neruda, excerpt from The Saddest Poem…I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don’t have her. To feel that I’ve lost her.To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.What does it matter that my love couldn’t keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.That’s all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.Someone else’s. She will be someone else’s. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
"
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
(via thelovejournals)
(via thelovejournals)