Close Your Eyes

Life in all of its complications
collinhughes:

Last week, about to take a swim in Spetses, Greece

collinhughes:

Last week, about to take a swim in Spetses, Greece

Libraries were full of ideas – perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.

—Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas (via prettybooks)

What choice did she have but to hook my cage to the awning overhead and leave as quietly as she could, before I realised I was alone?

—Ceridwen Dovey, from Only the Animals (via the-final-sentence)

I’m between a rock and a hard place and I choose out. No more.

I’m between a rock and a hard place and I choose out. No more.

(via if-you-leave)

jennilee:

Vancouver - Glass City - For Cereal Magazine

[Let the old dreams die. We are dreaming new ones.]

I hope they found what they were looking for.

—John Ajvide Lindqvist, from “Let the Old Dreams Die, (trans. by Marlaine Delargy)

(Source: the-final-sentence)

Do you ever dream about something so much that its delight is spoiled? The beauty in the fresh, un-tasted wishes swirling around in your head becomes dampened with the weight of trying and failing. You thought you had made it – you thought you were there. But the perfection that we mold in our minds is never a replica of the true state of life. New opportunities present themselves – a chance to “start over”. But can we ever start over? When you start fighting with your boyfriend at first glance and you say, “That was an awful beginning to this night. Let’s try again,” is that really a feasible request? “Fresh starts” seem puffed up with lies about the linearity of life. We cannot move on to the future without holding the past, either heavy on our backs or proudly in our arms. It is there nonetheless. I came into that place imagining a bright four-year future and I left with an exasperating desperation to never return. How can I try a new place, a new city, a new culture, when I feel so exhausted from the first? The weight of the year presses down on me. My heart feels heavy, pumping blood with weariness as though the first adventure was the most it could handle. More feels like too much. More feels impossible. More is terrifying. To go to a new place and try to forge a new life with the possibility of failure seems almost enough to keep me in this underappreciated state.  Does the risk of the venture outweigh the reward? How can I know unless I actually go, seek the unknown and hope with my every fiber that things do not fall apart once again? How much can self-determination influence the way somewhere feels in your heart? I fear settling, and I fear lying to myself to improve the conditions of my circumstances. I fear ruining my time and wasting my money by living with people who are once again incompatible to a level of disaster. The prospect of finding a new home of belonging and equality has even lost its invigoration. I feel tired, tired beyond the worth of such a hope. How can I know if I am settling for a life unworthy of me, or appreciating the wonderful in what others do not understand? Simply, I am frightened. The decisions I face are not ones I feel confident enough to approach. I wish I could try out every option like a little taste-tester of each environment. How can I trust my judgment from before this past year? My perception of what I required from an institution was certainly skewed. However my core feelings were true. My reaction to my home of the last year was never positive. I left feeling dejected, frustrated and unwelcome. Similar to how I felt leaving the second time, however in that moment the other emotions were overpowered by my absolute feelings of relief. If only I could feel as sure about entering a new place as I felt about leaving that one. I simply hope to find somewhere that does not bring me to tears when I consider returning. Somewhere that offers me excitement when I consider my eventual trip back. A place that I would like to visit after it is no longer my “home”. I am tired of my tears. The feeling of dread that seeps into my stomach, sinks my heart and slows my mind. I simply seek a state of happiness. Not perfection – I am well aware of the fallacy of that notion. I also understand that absolute happiness is generally unattainable. But to feel some sense of contentment with my state of being, a sense of “Yes, I found it; this is somewhere I can feel safe,” is now my wildest dream. I am not ignorant to reality, and I know that this is a realistic pursuit for me to follow. But how?

I want to live in the land of my passions and leave this place forever.

I want to live in the land of my passions and leave this place forever.

(Source: jamesnord)