The present changes the past. Looking back you do not find what you left behind.
—Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss (via observando)
A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.
—Washington Irving (via observando)
You don’t need water to feel like you’re drowning, do you?
—Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes (via observando)
I have found more wonder in the eyes of an innocent infant than in the windows of a knowing soul. I look into her warm grey eyes (the first time ever I saw a grey that warm!) and I search for the joy she finds in clenching her grandmother’s finger. I watch her trying to catch the wind and wonder if I ever did try to catch the chill that brushed past my cheek. I watch her eyes well up with tears, her throat struggling to voice her pain, as her eyes scrunch down in confusion. I watch her look at her mother and smile, a quick, heart-stopping smile and all I want to do is keep it safe for her. And maybe steal a pinch of that unadulterated wonder, unfettered love, pure happiness.
The winds of change are upon us
Stories of perturbed leaves and shaken branches
With terrified eyes, we look up to stars
But gone are they, in a flurry of stormy stances.
We realize a great deal of this-
All that is known and true, are now up to chances.
But the storm will be gone from within us
We must look up and take those chances.
For we will see a different sky, a dawn and dusk
With glimmers of hope everywhere, and the brightest star that dances.
Illustration - Kalen Chock
In the folds of my soul
Darker than coal
Deeper than the pits
of the eternally damned wits
Lies a heart so heavy and scarred
with age and experience she’s been marred.
I beg of her to let me go
let me find my freedom, set me afloat.
Claustrophobic shackles of memories and things
I reach for redemption, clutching at strings
"They’ll never let you go." She chuckles and sings.