Im Not There

Light years away and looking back...

Somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight

Someone’s thinking of me and loving me tonight

Somewhere out there someone’s saying a prayer

That we’ll find one another in that dream somewhere out there

And even though I know how very far apart we are

It helps to think we might be wishin’ on the same bright star

And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby

It helps to think we’re sleeping underneath the same big sky

Somewhere out there, if love can see us through

Then we’ll be together somewhere out there

Out where dreams come true…“

Fievel "Philly” Mousekewitz

fr3ight-train:

acutelesbian:

fat-thin-skinny:

acutelesbian:

A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life.
Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.

this fucks me up every single time

I never expected this to be my most popular poem out of the hundreds I’ve written. I was extremely bitter and sad when I wrote this and I left out the most beautiful part of that class.

After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort.

She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice.

Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation.

The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with.

The divorced ones said they chose to walk away.

Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days.

I no longer fear the day someone who swore I was their universe can no longer see the stars in my eyes as long as they still choose to look until they find them again.

This is so fucking important and I think it’s something I needed right now

(via miss-mandy-m)

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just–space:
“An Einstein Ringor gravitational lensing at work: the blue galaxy is behind the yellow galaxy but we can see it because the light from the far galaxy gets wrapped around by the closer galaxy. Photo NASA/Hubble
js”

just–space:

An Einstein Ringor gravitational lensing at work: the blue galaxy is behind the yellow galaxy but we can see it because the light from the far galaxy gets wrapped around by the closer galaxy. Photo NASA/Hubble

js
headlesssamurai:
““She came back with the glass and her fingers, cold from holding the glass, touched mine, and I held them for a moment and then let them go slowly, as you let go of a dream when you wake with the sun in your face and you have been...

headlesssamurai:

“She came back with the glass and her fingers, cold from holding the glass, touched mine, and I held them for a moment and then let them go slowly, as you let go of a dream when you wake with the sun in your face and you have been in an enchanted valley.”
 ― Raymond Chandler

(Source: cristianodeluca, via dustrial-inc)