Latest Posts by victorlima1 - Page 4

One day I promise you, you're not going to miss him forever. As much as his memories keep on resurfacing every now and then, there will be a day when everything will stop and your emotions will just change towards him. I mean, you won't start hating him instead of loving him the way you do now. You will just stop feeling for him. I know that you still wait for him to text you even when you are asleep. Part of you is awake waiting for him to call you. I know you miss him so much that your bones hurt. I know you miss him so much that it just feels a little more empty every day. I promise you are not going to be this sad forever. I know your heart aches all the time. I know you loved him, you still do and maybe you will always love him. But you can keep on loving someone until that love feels like it's pulling you down. When you feel that, let that feeling leave you. It's okay to stop having feelings for him, it's okay to just be neutral towards him. You don't have to starve yourself of things that he wasn't able to give you. One day you're going to move on and it's going to be the most beautiful thing that could happen to you after he broke your heart. Until then, remember to be soft on yourself. Remember to be a wreck and don't be afraid of spilling your emotions. Be a mess, be with big feelings and you can cry in public, too. We are all a mess but how we manage to handle ourselves is what makes us better than others.

-Talesofmaya via Instagram

No no, hear me out, okay? You date me, you get love letters, we recreate cute Pinterest photos, I surprise you with annotated copies of your favourite books, we get matching lockets and put pictures of each other in them, we explore the forest, we go to museums and libraries together, I make you your favourite tea, I write you sappy love songs, and we read books together so we can talk about them when we're done reading them. What do you think? Good idea, yeah?

I’ve been trying to make more room for you inside of myself lately, not because the nights are longer without the comforting rhythm of you breathing next to me, not because I know I can close the gap between who I’m not and who I know I can be with a brush your fingers, but I know one day you’ll wake up and the war inside of your head will be over. I learned how to swallow screams too early in life and now they sit at the back of my throat waiting for a name quieter than winter, but my words have loved you since forever, and every time you touch them I know it's you. I don’t know how to fit all my love for you in to this lifetime, but I’m going to do everything I can to try.

carry me in your heart. I want to be where you need me most when I’m too far for your arms to reach.

evermore as an old storybook

@taylorswift @taylornation ♡

part 1 | part 2 | twitter

[please credit me if you repost]

Carlisle cullen and aro volturi appreciation post

Spilled coffee on old letters written to old friends. Half burned pages left on the table. Listening to soft nostalgic music with a wicked smile. Sitting near the rear window while it rain at 3 am. Not shivering to the thunderstorms sound. Candle burning near the table when you type yet another aching poetry lines. Perfect distortion. Perfect melancholy.

You know what I liked about snyder’s justice league? That at the end of the day, Batman was about hope and faith. We’re so used to this dark brooding character that they try to portray but Batman is about a little boy wanting to change the world, to try and protect anyone from hurting the way he hurt and for having faith in people and the world to be good. Superman’s symbol may stand for hope, but all of Bruce Wayne stands for it too.

I love reading.

I love the way it makes me feel. The way I get lost in the pages, in the words that seem to create a new world around me, in the feeling that I stop being myself and finally I'm someone else worth living. Because books for me it's a way to feel. Yo actually feel. Deeply, without being afraid, marking my very soul to the point the are part of me in a way, the shaped and changed my existence, bringing me into new families and friends and loved ones. Because no matter the end the feeling of being loved is there.

For me reading a book is a holy experience.

When I first hold the book in my hands I want to just sit there and stare a few seconds felling the way my heart beats faster and I can't stop smiling and the anticipation is eating me alive. Just sit there and smell the pages, the way the ink smell, the contrast of the black letter on the white paper.

The I open it and it's like a whole new world. I'm no longer in my existence, but I'm living a different life, a few of them. I have loved ones and I have enemies and I fight for what I believe it's right or causing destruction in my path because I had enough, I'm both the villain and the hero, I'm the good and the bad, I'm more than I'll ever be as myself. I feel the pain, I feel the joy, I laugh at the jokes and the sarcastic comments, I die of embarrassment, I crie and I smile, and I fall in love I judge everyone around me and I can't stop until I know the end.

And then I'm back. Back at my very existence I hate, but how can you hate something when each part of it belongs to something you love so much? When I finish reading is like a subdrop. It's like the world is crashing down on me. It's like a reminder that none of it was real, but yet for me it was. The pain and the joy it was real. It make me feel.

I love reading. It never disappoints me. It keeps my soul company. In a way a human never did, because they never tried. Reading hurts me and puts me back together. It's heals a hurting soul and protects a loved one.

I really love reading. Even when no one else understands it. I do. It's mine. It's make me want to live, to explore, to love, to be.

G o r g e o u s ♡

(@mftfernandez via instagram ❣)

In the depth of those words, i intend to write a letter to myself but it came out as a death note instead, i was in awe-destruction. These words carry heavy bricks and burning rage, where should i put it down? I wanted to write about what a fine and a good day looks like but then i remember Van Gogh's saying, 'this sadness will last forever' and so i hold the pen and start pouring blood, spilled on the pages of my dear diary. These kind of stuff happens when you cant pull the trigger. Millions of thoughts written yet none could be able to elucidate the unsaid., it always went down the grave coverted in the dead bones.

- Marium.

I want to write. I have ideas. I open document. I type four of the worst sentences ever created in the english language. I daydream the rest of the scene. I close document.

the thing is, i knew i was going to lose you and i knew it was going to hurt. however, i often find myself up at night, thinking about what could have been.

— We will always love more that which is forbidden.

Sometimes i just wanna go into woods, live in a small shack, learn french, and fall in love with a family that are my only source of entertainment while sneeking out a night to help them collect firewood.

Just one of the things that’s been on my mind

If the stars we see in the sky is light projected to us from dead stars millions of years in the past due to light traveling slower in space. That means that if there is intelligent life out there looking at us from their galaxy then what they’re seeing is light images from our galaxy/planet millions of years ago. They’re currently seeing light images from our galaxy during the time dinosaurs roamed our planet. Which is probably why they’ve yet tried to make contact because they don’t see intelligent life on our planet yet. And according to Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. If they were to use a telescope to look at our planet they’d probably see dinosaurs in real time. That’s a form of time travel.

something that truly saddens me is that there are planets and stars that could live out their entire existence without any acknowledgement. entire solar systems could be born and destroyed without anyone to witness. it saddens me because it shows how truly lonely the universe is. the universe has been alive for longer than any human being can observe for and its existence had been neglected for centuries. i can only imagine the history that the universe has seen that we would never be able to know of. i can only imagine what the universe went through all on its own without anyone to watch. and it makes me wonder if this will be our story too. so far, we have no evidence or proof of any life. so, what if we die out? what if we slowly go extinct? there wouldnt be any one to support us or to even realize or understand our disappearance. they could be too late and only get to see the remains of what once was. would they question those remains? or would they assume that they were what always was? that those remains were the only things this planet has seen? similar to how we, now, look at the remains of what might have once been with no idea that we were too late. we may not question those remains and mistake them for the natural state of a planet or a star. it really is sad that the universe lives on its own, almost completely empty of life. and that with all of our attempts, we could/would always be too late to let some parts of the universe know that they’re not alone.

I told my brother I couldn’t sleep and he told me to watch something boring so, did you guys knew stars have different light colors? Actually red light stars are that color because since they are in the cool and bloated stage of their evolution they are more dense, therefore can dominate the infrared light. Still awake though.

i’ll attempt to go to the city on my own and order a couple books on cosmology tomorrow. i’m really into that stuff. the theories of general relativity and quantum mechanics and the search of a combination of those are so interesting! also I just read how Dr. Norma Sanchez has published a theory on that in january. i really have to do some further reading on her theory!

You ever just wonder what is even out there? Like most of the people don’t even care, they give more attention to stupid little things like styling hair and following the latest trends (not calling you out btw) but why worry about that when there’s, like, this whole world out there that we have no idea about? The thing is, we don’t even know anything. There could be alternate realities split apart by each choice we make. There could be rips in the universe. Our minds could be floating around in outer space. We have no freaking idea and we choose to live our revolving around the stupidest, most pointless things! Do you hear that? WE. DON’T. KNOW. ANYTHING. And honestly all I want to do right now is figure out. But everyone thinks I’m insane, you know?

Things I wanna research more:

When movie musicals became second best to theatre musicals

Time theories

Quantum theories

Astronomy

The seven other units at uni that I can’t do for this degree

Did I say time theories

Quantum physics

Physics in general

Psychology things (mental health, trauma, etc)

“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W. I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father’s house this evening or never.” 

  ―Jane Austen, Persuasion    

Me in the middle of the night: *coming up with ideas for papers, developing points to argue, thinking of concepts for stories I want to write, imagining worlds that make me eager to start writing*

Me when I’m finally in front of my laptop: How do I write?

// Tom Marvolo Riddle //

Some illustrations from Astronomy, Explained Upon Sir Isaac Newton's Principles and Made Easy to Those Who Have Not Studied Mathematics by James Ferguson (1799).

The first occurrence of Einstein’s E=MC^2 equation in his own writing.

i just want to be one of those cute, aesthetically pleasing readers who’ve got their cardigans on and sip on their tea while reading by the fireplace but i always end up looking like a hot mess with my big stained hoodie, tied-up hair and dried up tears, trying to find good lighting at 3am so i can make out what i’m reading

i’m obsessed with clarice lispector I think she’s one of the most fascinating figures ever I can’t stop thinking about the time she attended a panel where they were discussing the philosophy/theory of her own works and she left early because she didn’t understand a word of what they were saying and it made her so hungry that she had to go home and eat an entire chicken

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 ???