The world isn’t half as bad as we’ve painted it to be. ♥

I like to believe that even if we’re not together in every other lifetime or dimension, I at least passed you on the way to the market once or twice.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 ABC Family Exclusive (Beware of spoilers!)

It’s the Longing that ultimately undoes you. When it finds you, it gnaws at your bones and tugs at your chest. It fills you up inside like rot and makes you dream dreams and it drowns you. The Longing keeps you in bed, clutching at your sheets while the world goes on outside. It smells like old leaves and cigarette smoke, mixed with the scent of far-off places you will hear of, but never see. It’s the gloss on a lover’s lips the moment you realize you will never kiss those lips again. It is the bittersweet, unrequited love of creation and it will break your heart again and again and again. If you know the Longing the way I do, then these words are redundant. We understand each other perfectly, you and I.

The timing is never right and conditions are never perfect.

Someday becomes a statement that will rob you of ever fulfilling your dreams and conquering your fears.

You say you will start tomorrow.

Tomorrow arrives and you postpone your actions yet again.

Tomorrow starts today.

Your future starts now, in this moment.

If you know there is a difficult task that you need to eventually face.

If you know it is looming.

Why add anxiety upon yourself by continuing to postpone facing that which is holding you back?

Why keep yourself from reaching all you can achieve and accomplish?

From the limitless possibilities that wait for you, if you face this task.

Whether you tackle it head on, or little by little, day by day.

Know that there is no perfect way to do the work.

Know that there is no perfect time to start.

Know that the longer you draw out the process, the longer you will feel the hurt and pain of the situation.

No more tomorrow.

Your freedom starts now.

And it starts with you.

They wanted to say something, but could not. Tears came. They were both pale and thin; yet in those pale, sickly faces there already glowed the light of the renewed future, resurrection to a new life. Love resurrected them; the heart of one contained infinite sources of life for the heart of the other.

“Let others pride themselves about how many pages they have written; I’d rather boast about the ones I’ve read.”

Jorge Luis Borges


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