Existing to be destroyed-

My name is Julia and I like the idea of carpe diem, illuminati, and pop culture.

I own nothing unless stated otherwise.

1/471 Next


You said, “Come on in, the water’s fine.”
So I busted cannonballs off across the ocean and back
and you said, “That’s not what I meant.”

I know I took things too far sometimes
but I didn’t mean to pass you by.

Every day I would try catching up to you.
Every day you would pull me over
and ask where I was going in such a hurry.

By the time I realized I had missed your point
I took to asking if you would meet me, way off the mark.
I’d make you dizzy and hope it felt good.

You’re gone now and I get it.
I had to know with my lungs what I did.

Did you see where the wind went
when it got knocked out of me?
Do you know it was by your side?


Buddy Wakefield - “Rapid Obsuccession” (via cosmickonciousness)


It was movement in some lazy direction with no intention of ever really changing who we made ourselves become in the blink of an eye.
You said I have this bad habit of ruining anything that makes me happy and I can’t remember the last time it hurt to swallow so much truth like that did.


I want to be honest with her and tell her the truth is I don’t know how I’m ever going to get out of this hole I’ve created for myself. Sometimes it seems like I’ve been living deep enough to evade any sunlight. I want to be honest with her and tell her that I haven’t been honest with her in the…

"I’m in love with her."
“I think I’m going to be sick.”



Today, Security camera clips that make the news usually show bad things, but here, Coke decided to “look at the world a little differently” in this heartwarming viral video. People stealing kisses, harmless soldiers, music addicts, honest pickpockets and potato chip dealers. Love, Attacks of friendship, friendly gangs and kindness. Unexpected firemen, rebels with a cause and peaceful warriors. A lot of crazy people, and a few heroes. 

I love this so much


We don’t know how to say goodbye,
We wander on, shoulder to shoulder
Already the sun is going down
You’re moody, and I am your shadow.
Let’s step inside a church, hear prayers, masses for the dead
Why are we so different from the rest?
Outside in the graveyard we sit on a frozen branch.

That stick in your hand is tracing
Mansions in the snow in which we will always be together.


Anna Akhmatova, We Don’t Know How To Say Goodbye (via grammatolatry)

"I guess in retrospect I should’ve sensed decay,
Then that day how you said “I just don’t know”
And I promised we’d rearrange things to fix the mess I made.
But I guess in the end we just moved furniture around."

(via dakutheemphatic)


It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you happy. You keep cutting all those little strings that keep your windows open because you think if you let go
Just let go
It will keep your heart safe
And your skin tough
And your eyes clear
And your hands busy.
Those little strings kept your windows open…

This is a replay of last years events. I’m just a little more invested this time.

I’m leaving, by the way. I haven’t felt this hopeful since the beginning.

It’s fitting. Thank you.


After you left,
I stopped watering the flowers
on my front lawn, and as I watched
each one fold into itself
I started wondering if I was doing the same.
Because if you aren’t living,
then you have to be dying instead,
or at least that’s what my mother screamed
when she told me stop listening to sad music
and reading books that clawed
away at my insides.

When things started getting really bad
with the first boy I ever pretended
to love,
he started saying things like,
‘You don’t smell as good as she did’
and ‘I only kissed you so you could finally
stop talking about poetry and what the
New York City rain tastes like.’
I realized I didn’t really love him
when he told me to leave,
and I did.

The first time I told you I
was falling in love with your hands
and the way they knew how to hold me,
you whispered to me about the last
girl that lived in your bed,
and how her mother still calls
you sometimes and invites
you over for dinner.
There were nights when
you didn’t come home until three in the morning,
and I wondered if
you were busy eating from plates
that weren’t mine
and touching skin that didn’t belong
to my bones.
I almost asked,
but the way you looked through me
in the mornings told me
that I didn’t want the answer.

Months after that,
she left a voicemail
telling you how much she
loved the necklace you bought her
and how she liked the way
you looked in the soft glow of dawn.
I almost broke the house in half
with the thunder in my sobs.
You came home to find me
in the corner of the bedroom
scratching at the walls
and howling to a moon that didn’t
bother showing up.
I don’t remember leaving,
I just know one day I woke up
and nobody was there to ignore me anymore.

I’m still trying to decide if that was
worse than being ignored in the first place.
And I’d send this to you,
but you probably wouldn’t see it sitting
on your doorstep.
You’d probably step right over it,
and then wonder why you haven’t heard
from me.


Y.Z, He only called me after I left (via rustyvoices)


'Your call has been forwarded to
an automatic voice message system
reminding you that she’s not coming back
anytime soon.’ Though I’ve missed her since the
night we went to bed angry; she slept with her bones
sloped inwards, her knees curled in, and her chest
protected. This was the first time I felt like an intruder

in our home. The security system down the hallway
could do nothing to protect her from the weapons that slip
into my breath when I breakdown. Or when I break into
our love and accuse everything but my own wary heart for
being unable to hold us together. I counted 347 disproportionate
pieces of stucco that emanated from the right corner of our bedroom
that night before realizing I might not be able to fix us this time.
I’ve got an empty holster of stability but my mind’s loaded, a full chamber, its safety paralyzed in the off position by my fear of abandonment. That night, I drew you to your triggers to see if
you’d shoot first. I’m sorry.

Baby, the bags I carried out while you slept were heavier than the
ones under our eyes the past month, but nowhere near as dark.
I imagined this must be what you felt like cradling my skeleton
on the nights my muscles wouldn’t work. I -

I still love you. And I’m still criminal, because I can’t stop myself
from saying that I still fucking love you and I still miss your glacial hands. The way you tenderly iced my bruised sense of self-worth from years of beating insecurity into my body in the early mornings. Christ, you were the only crime I’ve committed myself to that I’d give my life for. And so, I did. I was tired of making you the victim, it was tearing me apart to know that I wasn’t the one sheltering you anymore, I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to hurt you,
I never meant for this.

My voicemail’s getting full. I don’t know how
many more nights I can swallow whiskey and tears and
the recordings of your breathy apologies—
You have nothing to be sorry for, and

I miss you, too, and, I still love you, too.
That’s why I’m hoping you’ll stop calling soon.


"I Should’ve Left This Message Before the Tone" -Valentina Thompson (via theseoverusedwords)


You are the smell before rain
You are the blood in my veins

Call me a safe bet, I’m betting I’m not
I’m glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes, you can forget..

All the feels for this song.

"Do not look for a sanctuary in anyone except yourself."

Siddhārtha Gautama  (via aliciacrider)