Carried Through the Night

That smile.
That laugh.
That smirk,
and that snicker.

The sarcasm.
The late night talks.
The bullies,
and the high school hallways.

Through tears.
Through joy.
Through sadness,
and through hardship.

You were there, to hold me through the storm.

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the lvoe letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

(Derek Walcott)

An Exerpt from House Rules (Jodi Picoult)

"Don't you wish love was so strong it could come back to haunt you?"
I told him the story of my mother, who one night had woken up at 3:14 a.m. with a mouth full of violet petals and the scent of roses so thick in the air that she could not breathe. An hour later she was roused by a phone call: her own mother, a florist by trade, had died of a heart attack at 3:14 a.m. "Science can't answer everything," I told Henry. "It doesn't explain love."
"Actually it does," he told me. "There have been all kinds of studies done. People are more attracted to people with symmetrical features, for example. And symmetrical men smell better to women. Also, people who have similar genetic traits are attracted to each other. It probably has something to do with evolution."
I burst out laughing. "That is awful," I said. "That is the most unromantic thing I've ever heard."
"I don't think so . . ."
"Oh, really. Say something that will sweep me off my feet," I demanded.
Henry looked at me for a long moment, until I could feel my head growing lighter and dizzier. "I think you might be perfectly symmetrical," he said.

Bigger than dreams.

A Cute Little Tale :)

A boy and girl used to be best friends but suddenly the began to not get along, they tease and harass each other all the time at school. One day the teacher had enough so she sent them to the school psychologist, he looked at the boy.“I think the problem here is trust so let me ask you this, if the school were on fire and you got out but she was still inside would you go back for her?” the psycologist asked.“No” the boy said simply. The girl got a look on her face as if she was going to cry. The boy looked to her sadly, without taking his eyes off of her he continued “I wouldn’t go back because I would have never left without her.

Let's Get Lost

Let's get lost. Let's get lost in this realm of the unreal. Let's get lost, let's get entwined, let's escape this prison I call home. I often get asked why I love indulging myself in words. Honestly, I don't know. Words mean the world to me. Without words, I would be so lost. My connection between words is like a bulimic's connection with the toilet bowl. If you ever take away a toilet bowl from that of a bulimic, they will probably feel utterly lost. At least, that's how I would feel if words were suddenly taken out of my life. Indulging myself in words means much more than just finding the perfect combination of words that probably will mean nothing in a few months. To me, the words I write and the words I indulge myself in are those that has been chosen carefully by me to accompany me during my sad, depressing moments. When I write, I feel like I have escaped time and lost reality. Lost. Let's just get lost.

Perhaps.

I don't understand how you can smile all day but cry yourself to sleep at night. How pictures never change, but the people in them do. How you can love so innocently, but it can turn into anger so quickly. How your best friend can become your worst enemy or how strange it is when your worst enemy turns into your best friend. How forever turns into a few short months that you’d do almost anything to get back. How you can let go of something you once said you couldn’t live without. How even though you know something is best for you, it hurts just the same. How the people who once wanted to spend every second with you, think a few minutes of their time is too much to spare. How the smell of a person stays with you even when they’re gone. How people make promises and bare their souls to someone, despite knowing how common it is for promises to be broken. How people can erase you from their lives cause it’s just easier then working things out.