dear-almost - Tumblr blog

[dear-almost]

Dear Almost Friend...

How do I survive in a world where am I not needed? Where my skills belong to the dusty past, the black and white frames of something that once was but hardly exists in this cold life? How do I continue fighting when I am all but spent and stripped to the bone?

Oh, my darling, I am tired—so very tired. Oh my dearest, I am sad—so very sad.

I do not wish to fight my battles anymore. I no longer know what I believe in, and for that, I feel like sheep. I am lost. Meaningless. Empty. I feel as if I am being tossed from side to side, running from one lackluster shine to another, hoping, wishing, scrabbling for any trace, any remnant of answers to the abyss of questions that scream through my mind.

How can I choose what I think I want when I don’t know what to believe, or what I believe in anymore? I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I stand for. All I know is that I’m still searching. Desperately searching…but what for?

It is a tragedy to believe that life is simply one long story, one with a very sad beginning and an even sadder end. It is a sorrow to think that we exist only for the sake of existing; no purpose, no release. 

Oh, my love, how I long to go back home—but the only home I know is one that is now safely embedded in the warm threads of the past. Home—where everything was but a dream, where everything was certain as the sun rising and the sun setting. Where laughter was heard, where ignorance abounded, and everything was so, inexplicably, damnably sure.

I am looking, hunting, roving, searching. Come find me—

               Wherever you are.

                               Whoever you are.

Unravel this tangle. Solve this puzzle. Unlock the universe. 

[dear-almost]

and I was afraid I would be used to it // being lost // neither here nor there

[dear-almost]

Yes, I held onto the stars. Yes, I let them burn me. Because despite the pain, the longing, and the loneliness, they were the only things in this goddamn universe that kept me warm.

and it was worth it // k.s. (via worthystevie)

[dear-almost]

She’s American // The 1975

[dear-almost]

Life magazine, 1949. Photographed by Nina Leen. (x)

[dear-almost]

crossing the street

by matialonsor

[dear-almost]

Hannes Becker

[dear-almost]

I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but I was afraid that he would hear me.

and in the bitter silence of my heart I screamed and yearned for him // k.s. (via worthystevie)

[dear-almost]

and in that lonely, tragic, lovely moment, she realized how much she wanted. the dreams that she desired, the dreams that were never hers to begin with. because how could she love something that she hated and yearned for at the same time? but she supposed it was because of its overawing arms, the concrete stone of its heart, and the rhythm, the sure purpose of its gait. she wanted to belong to that. she wanted to belong to the city that was surrounded, encompassing, whole. the thought of the empty stretch of shore made her ache, a hurt so hollow and echoing, she could feel it in her bones and soul. 

because all she had ever wanted, in the darkest most selfish reaches of her heart, was to be welcomed, to belong. to belong to a city, a stage that would embrace her not out of pity or personality, but out of awe and grace.

[dear-almost]

Jar of Star Light.

[dear-almost]

WATCH: A Gorgeous Rotoscoped Music Video Created from 1,200 Hand-Painted Frames [music video]

[dear-almost]

No one knew his name to curse or extol, so I spoke it softly, beneath my breath. “Aleksander,” I whispered. A boy’s name, given up. Almost forgotten.

[dear-almost]

love yourself so no one else has to break yourself so no one else can hate yourself more than they can hope to destroy yourself before they have the chance

be your own worst enemy - don’t give them the satisfaction (via mymouthisfullofstars)

[dear-almost]

[dear-almost]

lift with your knees, atlas, the heavens are a burden but in the starlit ink of constellations you have written: endure.

weight - a.j. (via achillics)

[dear-almost]

she felt humbled, lonely, alone. she wanted to be up there with the golden stars, gliding among the silver fountains of youth. and only for a split-second, she desperately wanted to taste the limelight of everything she had ever yearned for—intelligence, recognition, fame. But then the moment was gone and she woke knowing she would live those breathless moments in ghostly apparitions and dreams of something that might never be.

[dear-almost]

Freedom is not contentment. Freedom is only art. And is love art? No, art is nothing like fire And how do you feel? I am burning

Dorothea Lasky, from “Awe: A Dialogue,” Awe (via tiaretahiti)