nyxsuggestion:

she felt like a cool evening in an empty garden, book in hand, glasses tucked neatly behind two pinpricked ears. what is she looking for but answers only to find more questions? what is she hoping for but endless open curiosity?

thequotejournals:

“Whosoever is delighted in solitude, is either a wild beast or a god”

— Plato, Protag..I 337

angelsenses:

• finally showering after way too many days of not showering, feeling cleansed and free, like you could just float away
• floating in a pool, not touching anything but the water so it feels like youre floating in nothingness
• wearing gold jewelry and makeup, wearing crystals
• finding glitter randomly on your body, even if you havent been around glitter
• feeling when someone you love is close to you, even if youre not touching you can feel the warmth of the person
• having cryptic dreams about nothing specific, but you know it means something
• looking up at the sky at night and feeling the raw energy of the universe
• doodling while spacing out, letting your invisible self guide your hand
• listening to music that you love with headphones or earbuds on, feeling like the music is taking you away to another time, another place, another universe maybe?
• feeling gentle, and calm, but at the same time powerful and important, a tightness in your chest, telling you that you’re very much alive

willowhazze:

“His body smelled like a precious-wood forest; his hair, like sandalwood, his skin, like cedar. It was as if he had always lived among trees and plants.”

— Anaïs Nin, Little Birds (via moonglowlily)

entjs:

“He wants to be known deep down, abysmally deep down, before he is capable of being loved at all; he dares to let himself be fathomed. He feels that his beloved is fully in his possession only when she no longer deceives herself about him, when she loves him just as much for his devilry and hidden insatiability as for his graciousness, patience, and spirituality.”

— Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

crypticdatesuggestions:

Date the being with changing eyes and shaky hands. They are not soft. They are not kind. They are terrifying, angry, and so very sad, but being around them reminds them to be softer, to be kinder, and makes them ever happier. They are trying their best. Hands that used to harm now cook the tastiest meals and grow the loveliest plants. Teeth that used to tear now only gently brush against your skin when you kiss. Arms that used to crush simply squeeze, simply hold you just rightly when the world becomes too much. They are not soft, but they are no longer sharp, cutting. They are not kind, but they are no longer cruel, heartless. They are learning. They are becoming better. Their eyes that once spelled death for anyone who peered too deeply into them now simply caress your soft, gentle human skin and soak in the beauty that you are.