Against the Light

Forgive me for being weak, but I’m just the type of person who loves more. And I think that’s okay.

I quit when the person has given up on me. I stay when the person still needs me. I keep going when the person still believes in me.

You may not have chosen me, and would soon forget me, but those precious times are worth every breath, every laughter and every tear.. and I wouldn’t hesitate to live through them once more even if it meant an inevitable end. But now, even if I may not truly understand why my efforts are not rewarded, I would not stand in your way. I love you so much this way, and even though I’ve been left behind, at least I knew.. you loved back, even for a short while..

.

.

Cheesy as it may sound, I think a love even greater than that of being together is the one where you need to let go. Because in that kind of love, you do not partake in give and take instead, you receive nothing. But what makes it great is how unconditional it can be that you’re willing to suffer months or even years of heartbreak and suffer thoughts of what could’ve been. However, this person has been a gift, a happiness unparalleled, that you are just more than willing to let a part of you die while letting her go to where she thinks she should be.

…

..

.

I’m not moving.

Favorite Cure song.

(via fiebre)

"Some people feel like they don’t deserve love. They walk away quietly into empty spaces, trying to close the gaps of the past."

Jon Krakauer (via loveyourchaos)

(Source: larmoyante, via loveyourchaos)

“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.”

..

The fresh warm nights ripen its pieces; The moon was pregnant and luminous, as she illuminates her spectacular rays behind the frequent nimbus clouds. The thick August air carries the peculiar smell of the signaling storm.

And there was this man, standing in the midst of schizophrenic beauty. Vivid memories, false hope and unfulfilled longings suddenly tortured his ballistic mind. And in that moment, he is alone.. and miserable.. 

..

.

(Source: bittersweetnovacaine, via loveyourchaos)

rarivera:

Yes it is.

Killing Time.

 ”Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

 Five hundred twenty-five thousand  moments oh dear

 Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a year and a life?”

These lines were from the song “Seasons of Love” from the “Rent” movie. The song began playing on my shuffled playlist a while ago, I was suddenly struck by sturdy bolts of nostalgia. Every time I hear this song, I always remember my old high school days, especially the senior years. This was sort of glued in my head after it was played during one of those highly-pleasurable school programs. 

It was just like yesterday when I was walking through the halls of my Alma Mater, fooling around in her grounds together with my mischievous mates. And now, I am miserably struggling in this atrocious college. 

Time is really a horrible enemy. Every day is a losing battle against it. We cannot stop time from changing, we can’t prevent time from changing us. Time changes everything. But time, in its own essence and attributes, is quite long. I think the same if I relate it to hours in a day, or to an average human lifespan.

What makes everything seem short are the things we can and want to do which immediately overwhelms the time we think we have left. I think that’s why people tend to count time in deductions instead of in additions.