Every form of hate is self-hate.
Maheshvara (via nirvikalpa)
(Source: Lucifelle)
89 plays
boy, i can feel your heart bursting through my chest…
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not here, not there: you hear them
in another time that is now,
listen to the footsteps of time,
inventor of places with no weight, nowhere,
listen to the rain running over the terrace,
the night is now more night in the grove,
lightning has nestled among the leaves,
a restless garden adrift—go in,
your shadow covers this page.
in another time that is now,
listen to the footsteps of time,
inventor of places with no weight, nowhere,
listen to the rain running over the terrace,
the night is now more night in the grove,
lightning has nestled among the leaves,
a restless garden adrift—go in,
your shadow covers this page.
“As one listens to the rain” by Octavio Paz, trans. Eliot Weinberger (via the-final-sentence)
This baby was a genius.
if not for you the Winter would hold no Spring.
