Almost

And if this blog has not made that much of a statement to prove the things I love to love and do, let me reinstate it to you: I love quoting important and random people. I find it quite amusing to learn how some people make it look so easy for them to pour their hearts out in words that relates to people, touch lives and triggers emotions that most readers don't know existed.

Now, on my other blog on Tumblr (hahaha plug: http://cataclysmalblip.tumblr.com/), I don't reblog quotes as much as I want to. I currently have 4,500+ quotes I've found, appreciated and wished to share but I'm too much of a wuss to do so.

So today, after a week-long hiatus due to work, I stumbled onto a quote that I liked from years back and decided to make a change and share it this time:

Almost. It's a big word for me. I feel it everywhere. Almost home. Almost happy. Almost changed. Almost, but not quite. Not yet. Soon, maybe. 
— Joan Bauer

Enough said.

Wanderlust

Travel is little beds and cramped bathrooms. It's old bedroom television sets and slow Internet connections. Travel is extraordinary conversations with ordinary people. It's waiters, gas station attendants, and housekeepers becoming the most interesting people in the world. It's churches that are compelling enough to enter. It's McDonald's being a luxury. It's the realization that you may have been born in the wrong country. Travel is a smile that leads to a conversation in broken English. It's the epiphany that pretty girls smile the same way all over the world. Travel is tipping 10% and being embraced for it. Travel is the same white T-shirt again tomorrow. Travel is accented sex after good wine and too many unfiltered cigarettes. Travel is flowing in the back of the bus with giggly strangers. It's a street full of bearded backpackers looking down at maps. Travel is wishing for one more bite of whatever that just was. It's the rediscovery of walking somewhere. It's sharing a bottle of liquor on an overnight train with a new friend. Travel is 'Maybe I don't have to do it that way when I get back home.'

─ Nick Miller, Isn't It Pretty to Think So?

Oh Reckless Abandon

Stay


I once had someone tell me suicide was selfish 

That the scars those ghosts created would haunt those left behind
That their memories would ripple on into tomorrow and the
tomorrow after that
And I asked in return
What about the people asking them to stay? 
How was that any less selfish?
Any less cruel?
How was being forced to live through your own hell supposed to be
some sort of gift?
Now before you get the wrong idea
I was twelve when I asked that question

Now six years and two different types of anti-depressant later I can
comfortably say
That both happen to be equally selfish
But I need you to trust me
Let them want you
I know you might not feel wanted right now
But let your future want you
Give yourself over to the greedy minds that are smart enough to love 
you
And I promise you one day you'll be playing with sunbeams and 
friendship bracelets
Oceans and lovers
Laughter and wine glasses
Being selfish is a human gift
So let them consume you
Let life take you

(via Gabi of http://amberon.tumblr.com/)

The How I Can't Recall

I LIKED BEING ALONE.

I like drinking coffee alone, and reading alone. 

I like riding the bus alone, and walking home alone. 

I like eating alone, and listening to music alone. 

It gives me time to think, and set my mind free.

But when I see a mother with her child, a girl with her lover, or a friend laughing with their best friend, I realize that even though I like being alone, I don't fancy being lonely. The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad. I just need someone who won't run away.

(via Andy of http://buddhacoffee.tumblr.com/)

Even the Birds are Chained to the Sky

It's much easier to not know things sometimes.

Things change and friends leave. And life doesn't stop for anybody.

I wanted to laugh. Or maybe get mad.

Or maybe shrug at how strange everybody was, especially me. 

I think the idea is that every person has to live for his or her own life 

and then make the choice to share it with other people. 

You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives ahead of yours 

and think that counts as love. You just can't. 

You have to do things. I'm going to do what I want to do. 

I'm going to be who I really am. 

And I'm going to figure out what that is. 

And we could all sit around and wonder 

and feel bad about each other and blame a lot of people 

for what they did or didn't do or what they didn't know. I don't know. 

I guess there could always be someone to blame. 

It's just different. Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, 

but sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there. 

Because it's okay to feel things. 

I was really there. And that was enough to make me feel infinite. 

I feel infinite.

— Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

The More I See, The Less I Know

(photos via http://society6.com/artist/TinaCrespo)

Blind Man Looking for a Shadow of Doubt

(photo via http://dohanews.co/post/20276922255/the-souq-waqifs-army-by-habeeb-abu-futtaim-and)

if i knew where
i was going next,
i wouldn't be taking so many
naps, 
or reading all these books,
trying to divine my future 
in pillow cases
and stitched book bindings,
lost in the small decisions 
of each day,
only a little bit numb.

i am the inevitable wanderer
the boy who always says 
goodbye, 
but never knows
how to leave.

─ Habeeb Abu-Futtaim, The Souq Waqif's Army

(via http://thetopographeblog.com/)