charming-savages-blog - Tumblr blog

[charming-savages-blog]

The core of your true self is never lost. Let go of all the pretending and the becoming you've done just to belong. Curl up with your rawness and come home. You don't have to find yourself; you just have to let yourself in.

D. Antoinette Foy

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A writer is a world trapped in a person.

Victor Hugo

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I love the person I've become, because I fought to become her.

Kaci Diane 

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Those people that can just be so real, raw...authentic. Those are my kindred spirits. 

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In how many different countries have you been until now? :)

Oh gosh...honestly, only one which I count. Mexico. But my list of the ones I wish to see is never-ending. :)

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La Jolla Shores, 35mm film. One of my favorites. 

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Feeling like opening up, so if you’re curious about anything...pop something in my ask box. XO.

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Estelle Dévé at work in her studio.

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For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.

Eric Roth, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (via larmoyante)

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The wishbone will never replace the backbone.

Will Henry (via creatingaquietmind)

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"Embrace the chaos, you are enough" by Daria Khoroshavina

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Here’s what I’ve got, the reasons why I’m pretty sure we could live together. Because you are always smiling but write poems about drowning. Because we rewrite the lyrics of pop songs to be about Pugs and sing them loudly even though you can’t sing. Because you once texted me a haiku about the moon when you were drunk. Because you once cried at the end of Die Hard on Christmas eve when you were drunk. Because every time another man smells like American Spirits it reminds me of you and for a split second I fall in love with him. Because when I’m sick you hold my hair back, bring me fruit, kiss me on the mouth and hold me even though I’m gross. Because you bring me flowers for no reason but on Valentine’s Day you gave me a bouquet of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Because you let me give you a tattoo and you were only a little bit terrified. Because every time I show you a poem I love you’ve read it already. Because this morning when we woke up in my bed, in my apartment, it felt way too small. Because we got dressed in silence and you brought me coffee without asking. Because as I walked you to the bus stop I said I think it’s love, the real kind this time. I have said that to so many others before but this time feels different. Because we both knew I was saying it more to myself than to you. Because you kissed me goodbye anyway and smiled and said I love you too.

Clementine von Radics, “The Poet Convinces Herself More Than Anyone” (via larmoyante)