artvevo
At 19, I read a sentence that re-terraformed my head: “The level of matter in the universe has been constant since the Big Bang.”
In all the aeons we have lost nothing, we have gained nothing - not a speck, not a grain, not a breath. The universe is simply a sealed, twisting kaleidoscope that has reordered itself a trillion trillion trillion times over.
Each baby, then, is a unique collision - a cocktail, a remix - of all that has come before: made from molecules of Napoleon and stardust and comets and whale tooth; colloidal mercury and Cleopatra’s breath: and with the same darkness that is between the stars between, and inside, our own atoms.
When you know this, you suddenly see the crowded top deck of the bus, in the rain, as a miracle: this collection of people is by way of a starburst constellation. Families are bright, irregular-shaped nebulae. Finding a person you love is like galaxies colliding. We are all peculiar, unrepeatable, perambulating micro-universes - we have never been before and we will never be again. Oh God, the sheer exuberant, unlikely face of our existences. The honour of being alive. They will never be able to make you again. Don’t you dare waste a second of it thinking something better will happen when it ends. Don’t you dare
Caitlin Moran (via artvevo)
enchantedatmidnight
As a doctor, let me tell you what self-love does:
It improves your hearing, your eyesight, lowers your blood pressure, increases pulmonary function, cardiac output, and helps wiring the musculature. So, if we had a rampant epidemic of self-love then our healthcare costs would go down dramatically. So, this isn’t just some little frou-frou new age notion, oh love yourself honey. This is hardcore science.
Dr. Christiane Northrop, Hungry for Change (via larmoyante)
anappleforsnowhite

There is this odd trend
of taken women
saying they are too much,
and how the men they love
are amazing for dealing with them.

Love should not be a responsibility.
You should not have to deal with me.
Just because a woman is wild
and free
does not mean she is difficult.
He is not a martyr for loving me
through the good
and not so good.

Some mornings I will wake up swinging,
you do not get a gold star
for still loving me.

Some mornings I will wake up like a lamb,
you do not get a gold star
for loving me.

I am not a hurricane of a girl,
you always have the chance to leave.

Michelle K., Hurricanes. (via michellekpoems)