The Complications Of Survival

[The Complications Of Survival]

Photograph everything. Go out in early in the morning, and photograph everything from every possible angle. Make as many mistakes as possible. Thousands of mistakes. Hundreds of thousands of mistakes. Don’t try to take the right photograph. Try to take as many photographs as you can. Then go home, look at all your pictures. Decide what YOU like. Don’t decide what’s correct. Decide what YOU think is beautiful. Go to sleep. Wake up. Repeat. By doing this, you’ll develop your own style that makes you happy and gives you a sense of freedom and discovery.

Brandon Stanton from ‘Humans of New York’, in a reddit interview.  (via asyoulikeitnow)

[The Complications Of Survival]

We accept the love we think we deserve. I accept none, instead, ruin everything

[The Complications Of Survival]

[diaryofakanemem]

This.

[The Complications Of Survival]

[annoyeed]

If I have to beg for your attention maybe it’s best you stay away.

[The Complications Of Survival]

[The Complications Of Survival]

whatever the year we are in, your life will always be of your making

(via kushandwizdom)

[The Complications Of Survival]

I’m always torn between wanting to tell my story to everyone to let them know exactly what is in my head and keeping it to myself. The problem is being unhappy and consistently so pushes people away, no matter if they say they’re always there to listen there is only so much even your best friends can listen too. On the other hand, to pretend everything is fine is to poison yourself from the inside out; it is to ignore who you are and lose yourself. So which is better – to have friends that think you are melodramatic, attention seeking and pessimistic or to drown in your own mind?

Quotes from The Love Whisperer
(via thelovewhisperer)

[The Complications Of Survival]

[alisonmalee]

In case you have forgotten

[The Complications Of Survival]

[thesnobbyartsyblog]

It’s best to connect mentally before getting intimate.

[The Complications Of Survival]

In my defense, he was beautiful.
In my defense, he made butterflies when I thought I wasn’t a flower made to bloom.
In my defense, he was warm and languid when all I remember were cold and stiff mornings.
In my defense,
In my defense he loved me.

Not enough, not right, never freely but in my defense, he did. // Genefe Navilon (via letters-to-the-sea)