litenthusiast-blog1 - Tumblr blog

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La génération de nos jours baigne dans l'émotion. Mais les coeurs sont trompeurs.

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Tu me fais mal

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The colour of the sky breaks my heart sometimes

Because it reminds me of the sea

And because it reminds me of you

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C'est l'histoire d'un homme qui tombe d'un immeuble de 50 étages. le mec, au fur et à mesure de sa chute, il se répète sans cesse pour s'assurer : 'jusqu'ici tout va bien' 'jusqu'ici tout va bien' 'jusqu'ici tout va bien' Mais l'important ce n'est pas la chute,  C'est l'atterrissage.

Hubert, La Haine

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—And there was no dance, no holy place from which we were absent.

Sappho, excerpt of Fragment 19 (tr. by Julia Dubnoff)

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My most beautiful hiding places, / places that best fit my soul’s deepest colors, / are made of all that others forgot.

Olga Orozco, tr. by Elaine Stirling, from “Ballad of Forgotten Places,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

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— Rainer Maria Rilke, transl. by J.B Leishman, from Poems 1906 to 1926 (New Directions Books, 1957)

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Why can't I cry?

Me

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La Tristesse de Sagan

There is a threefold sadness in everyone’s life. 

1. Dissatisfaction. 

You’re a law student that doesn’t even want to be a lawyer. You desperately want to change the world, but everyone you talk to is pushing you towards commercial law and all you want to do is write but you can’t because you don’t have time and because you’re exhausted under this incredible pressure to do better, always better because your parents are depending on you and you don’t want to seem ungrateful but it’s like your depressed which is ridiculous because you have literally anything you ask for but still you feel tired all the time. And you never do your work because your always drinking or smoking or blazing and its like when you're not killing yourself with law you're killing yourself with anything else. Literally anything else anyone would offer you. 

2. Heartbreak.

You’re broken-hearted because you found guy-three in your rotation with some English student in his lap and it's like technically you have no right to be pissed but you still are because you genuinely cared about him and you might have let him fuck you but then he betrayed you and he probably laughs at you with all his friends. And your friends all think and know that you’re a slut but you don't want to be. You want one person to depend on but no dependable people are left, or maybe you just don't deserve a dependable person because are you sure you’d be able to commit? are you sure you’d be able to give everything else up? wouldn’t you get bored?

3. Loneliness

You miss your parents even though you wish you didn’t and if you were with them you wouldn’t be happy. It’s not so much them you miss as the presence of some structure in your life. Right now, its like you’re not even a human anymore. Just some paper bag flailing about in the wind. Every time your mum texts you, it's like a stab to the stomach because she wants you to come back but you can’t. you won't. because you want to be independent but independence comes at a price and the price for you is happiness. 

You have been cruel and so now the world is being cruel to you. 

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On n'oublit jamais. On vit avec.

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I woke up with an absolute certainty that this was the day I was going to die.

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Warm Heart, Fickle Heart, Heart of Stone, Heart of Ash

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Warm Bodies, Cold Hearts

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Boo fucking Hoo

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Friends Till Death Do Us Part

Things we have in common:

We both have terrible taste in best friends. Its what brought us together. The golden girl you walked around with tried too hard to control your distant whimsy. The daughter of the sun who I walked around believed she was the one who put the stars in the sky but forgot that they actually belonged to us. You and I, the dark twins of these self-appointed goddesses.

We both have terrible taste in men. Your on/off boyfriend treated you like trash and you allowed it because you didn't realise how scared he was to lose you. I have a thing for sociopathic playboys who whisper sweet nothings in the dead of night.

We both realised too late who our real friends were. Because there are some people you find at the bottle of a bottle of gin, at 5AM playing monopoly, only weeks before you'll be thrown apart. And these people who you might hold grudges against, for stealing your boyfriend or kissing that guy you like; turn out to be the greatest missed opportunities of your lifetime. And so they join the stars, along with all the other billion dead friendships out there, to be plucked down when we're 45, alone and unwanted, at 5AM, at the bottom of a bottle of gin.

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Terribly Cold Creatures

What terrible creatures we are...

What terrible creatures would leave their father, the words "let me teach you" hanging on his lips, as he struggles to picture us inside a teaching hall doing exactly what he did 20 years ago.

What terrible creatures we are...

for leaving our lakes, our coasts, our castles; trading them for dirty streets and corner pubs, as if they'll forgive us by the time we are home for christmas.

What terrible creatures, indeed;

for we abandon our mothers, who wake every morning thinking of what we would want for breakfast. Who sleep every night thinking of when we will finally get home.

What terrible creatures indeed, for leaving those who love us most, for trading warm hearth, for cold, unfeeling city.

But its a trade that must be made. And because we are also terrible kind creatures, we never forget to call home.

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I Can't Remember What Normal Feels Like

Here's what they don't tell you about addiction:

They don't tell you that when you stop numbing your heart with gin, what you're left with is a raw, interminable feeling of devastion as though your organs are being ripped out of your body and all you can do is watch. Every morning as you wake up, you feel as though you are mourning the loss of a dear friend: dull, aching pain, permanent frown, dark thunder booming ceaselessly in your ears.

They don't tell you that when you stop breathing through a nicotine filter, air doesn't taste the same when you breathe it in. Once refreshing, it turns to ash in your throat, choking you from the inside. For weeks after you quit, your head is lugged around like a boulder and your lungs long to escape your body so much, you're afraid you might throw them up. Your first drag after you start again, your throat burns as though you're being punished for trying to quit in the first place.

They don't tell you that once you taste his lips and feel his body against yours, every moment after is like a glacial wind that never stops blowing. When you realize the sunrays of his smile will never grace your face again, the tears freeze on your cheeks and the cold is inescapable. When he leaves for the last time, all you can do is obsess, driving yourself insane, trying and trying to forget him, but the last word on your lips every night is always his name...