Victorlima1 - João Victor

we grieve the future we will never have. we grieve the memories we will never make. we grieve the person we will never marry. i know that i am making the right decision by leaving but that doesnt make the grief easier. i am at peace with my own company but that doesnt mean i dont miss the comfort of having someone by my side through the ups and downs of life.

help

gostaria de poder dizer que sei de tudo. que sei que meus esforços vão valer a pena que tudo vai se encaixar, que o final feliz vem. mas a verdade é que mesmo que eu tivesse a capacidade de olhar meu futuro, eu ainda duvidaria se o visse dando certo.

Obsessed with the idea of sacrifice in a book being a selfish act rather than a selfless one. Their lover screaming at them: “How dare you leave me in this barren world? How dare you take away my choice to die for you and leave me with this grief?”. They are dead, and their lover is left - a gaping wound - bleeding into the ground. Do they love them so much that they would die for them, or do they love them so much that they forced the other to live without them? Sacrifice as a bitter act. Sacrifice as something wildly violent; something tormentingly cruel — but always, always built on love. Perhaps, they are both martyrs in the end.

i'm so obsessed with the idea of living in a big city where i can choose to be invisible and disappear between the crowds and live for myself and have my favorite little corner in a cafe and go to musea and galleries and appreciate art and architecture for hours uninterrupted and go to all the places where literary figures got inspiration for their poetry and their works and stroll down the streets by myself and look at people who pass by and invent little stories for them in my head and live in a small apartment where i can write by my open window until really late at night and sometimes stop and listen to the bustle of life on the streets below and i can also choose to be part of that bustle myself and part of a circle of artists who share a studio and support each other and go to social gatherings where i meet people who are as passionate about art and poetry as i am and exchange ideas and be inspired and have specific corners and monuments and cafes where we gather, and hold symposia stuffed in someone's tiny apartment and in general live as an active part of the urban creative scene ??? just ,,, living in a city where i get to see the entire assembled past and present existence of humanity ???

“Os seus amigos mais queridos são personagens de livros.”

— Trono de Vidro: Herdeira do Fogo - Sarah J. Maas

Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.

If you show me something you've not shown anyone else, tell me secrets you've not told anyone else and take me to places you've not taken anyone else to, best believe I'm going to publish a novel about how beautiful you are.

—

eu não posso ser sua amiga, porque a intensidsde dos meus sentimentos me machucam. Você não é amigo. Você é amor.