lookingforhill

[lookingforhill]

if god exists he must be

in each step that leads you to me

among sidewalls that separate us

of this uneasy vastness of a city

poems to a friend whom fate put beside me.

[lookingforhill]

here’s one of my diary entries from april:

maybe my biggest misconception about love has always been that it is supposed to be painful and gained with difficulty.

but apparently there is nothing wrong with being wanted by someone who I want. what a beautiful, and shameful, realization.

put your pen down. put your pen down and talk to him. ask whatever you want. he will like to answer. kill your curiosity this time, instead of your “what if”s and foolish heart.

[lookingforhill]

yeah. and of course I’ll use this as an excuse to yap about hozier.

from eden, sedated, francesca, to someone from a warm climate, dinner & diatribes, shrike, unknown / nth, foreigner’s god, butchered tongue, movement.

Can you name 10 songs by any artist/band?

[lookingforhill]

it’s almost two am. i’m lost in my thoughts once again, only my empty bedroom walls around and… the crane wives song “never love an anchor” appeared on my screen somehow. i haven’t listened to any of their songs before. anyway, the song felt like a dear friend of mine sitting beside and patting my back, saying “it’s going to be alright” which makes me want to believe in it so bad. i think i believe. that’s right.

[lookingforhill]

if your vastness could make its way to my sea

would you still turn away from me?

the north wind i am, cannot help but storm all around

until i pull my poor-mild love up from the ground

from my poem “north wind over the olive tree”

[lookingforhill]

Maybe the biggest, or only, obstacle was the distance. Even though I never believed it would matter to me, it does to most, including you. It was not only the blue light hitting my face from the small screen you lived in, but also the fact what a fool I was.

From my drafts of a short story called “The Nomad’s Letter to the Soul with Roots”

[lookingforhill]

a friend of mine just told me how odd it is that when love drips from the each crack of our bones we always end up consoling each other over our lost ones in the same table. never making them stay, never making them sit there with us…

[lookingforhill]

— Enzo Silon Surin

[lookingforhill]

it’s wintertime that awakens me

born again, with no heart and free

knowing, once more, where and how to go

with all i lost in my pockets, since long ago

[lookingforhill]

then i realized that i was the love i always yearned for. not inside, or beside it. not outside either. i was it. in everywhere i go, everyone i meet, every cat that sits on my lap and every little word that is written in my notebook… i saw that i was the love and i did not need more

[lookingforhill]

the distance, that frightens you so much, dear

is no excuse for this nomad to fear

hours and miles take nothing at all

from the existence of this fearless fleer

one from my notes app lol

[lookingforhill]

Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

[lookingforhill]

i love you hozier