If you’re jaded, if you’ve been in love more than once, if you’ve fallen in love for the first time, if you’ve been faced with the unexpected, the impossible, the irrational and improbable, there are questions. Why me? What now? Where do we go from here? Will we ever come back to this place? Do we need to be back here, or can we grow? What is he doing? What does she mean? Why can’t it be fucking simple? Does he mean it? Is she lying? What’s going to happen? How are we going to do this? Do they have all these questions, have they written them down, are they sitting upright in bed, glancing down at their questions, swallow twice, deep breath, get lost in the moment, lose all the confidence they’d been building up for hours, tuck those questions under a pillow, are they afraid to ask, are they afraid of what you’ll say, just like you, are they terrified of not being on the same page for even a moment? Will I ever hear from you again? Is this goodbye? Is this the start of something?
If your love isn’t simple, there are too many questions. You anticipate, worry, expect; you become too cautious, too careless, you lose control, of yourself, of everything and everyone. It paralyzes you, consumes you, and then you couldn’t care less. You forget the beauty of love, the all-consuming magnanimity of love, of everything that passes you by during this moment you’ll never get back, that will never be the same, because, well, there are questions. There are questions to be asked, questions you’ll never ask, questions that will always be there.
Or you could let go. Live for every second. Take a step at a time, a day at a time. You could tune out the noise, forget all your questions and just let it be, because where there is love, there is no question, not a single one.
took the words right out of my fingers
56 notes
new addition to yoga playlist.
Some nights you just gotta reorganize shit. Like a bookshelf. Now each cubby is a home for a different “genre.” Sustainability/food. Yoga/self-help. Old journals/writing. Fiction.
4 notes
I’d like to imagine that David Karp is dubstepping around in his office to this song currently
1 note
You’re not tired of dating; you’re just tired. You’re tired of bearing the weight alone. You’re tired of an empty apartment and dinner for one. You’re tired of ricocheting off yourself and slugging shots at the bar. You’re tired of playing dress up with no one to dress you down. You’re tired of the excruciating loneliness that creeps onto tingling skin, begging for touch like sucking for air. And so am I. So is she. So is he, and that girl, and those boys, and so many other people you see on the train, in the market, across the table. But we keep doing it because it’s worth it, because it’s everything, because for all the awkward hellos and terrible dinners, there’s one flawed masterpiece who’s singing your harmony…
Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy (via datebynumbers)246 notes
If the Tumblr office is already this swanky, imagine what it’ll look like $1 billion richer… #throwback (at Tumblr HQ)
8 notes
Squees X a million
I’m heading to Walk About NYC on Friday. HERE IS MY ITIN(erary).
I am going to the Tumblr Headquarters.
WHICH MEANS DREAMS ARE COMING TRUE.
8 notes
Guys, the Smithsonian is doing this really awesome crowd-funding project for a yogic art exhibit starting on May 29th (the exhibit to run October 19, 2013–January 26, 2014.) And I am pumped about it.
The exhibit is called “The Art of Transformation,” which is a theme that has been very close my heart for these past few months, so it just makes me happy for so many reasons that this is happening and we get to all be a part of it.
Photo credit: Smithsonian









