Under The Volcano →
Americans love Mexican food. We consume nachos, tacos, burritos, tortas, enchiladas, tamales and anything resembling Mexican in enormous quantities. We love Mexican beverages, happily knocking back huge amounts of tequila, mezcal and Mexican beer every year. We love Mexican people—as we sure…
elegantiaearbiter : Untitled ( blanc , noir, gris sur le rouge foncé), par Mark Rothko, Kunsthaus Zürich, Zürich.
"Who’s to say tomorrow won’t be the best day of your life?"
"Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness."
"But that’s how life is. You never know how it’s going to turn out, and you can’t plan for everything. You just have to do your best dealing with things as they come and hope people forgive you when you make a mistake."
"He was everything I have ever wanted, and everything I have ever hated. He is the world’s biggest jerk, but the sweetest one I have ever met. He’s stubborn as hell, but I actually find it kinda cute. He looks like he could beat anyone up without difficultly, but he honestly has the kindest heart. He’s not mine, but I so desperately need him to be."
"It hurts to let go. Sometimes it seems the harder you try to hold on to something or someone the more it wants to get away. You feel like some kind of criminal for having felt, for having wanted. For having wanted to be wanted. It confuses you, because you think that your feelings were wrong and it makes you feel so small because it’s so hard to keep it inside when you let it out and it doesn’t coma back. You’re left so alone that you can’t explain. Damn, there’s nothing like that, is there? I’ve been there and you have too. You’re nodding your head."
"Don’t hold on to anger, hurt or pain. They steal your energy and keep you from love."
"I can’t afford to hate anyone, I don’t have that kind of time."
"I’m not lost for I know where I am. But however, where I am may be lost."
"Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart."
"People think they know you. They think they know how you’re handling a situation. But the truth is no one knows. No one knows what happens after you leave them, when you’re lying in bed or sitting over your breakfast alone and all you want to do is cry or scream. They don’t know what’s going on inside your head—the mind-numbing cocktail of anger and sadness and guilt. This isn’t their fault. They just don’t know. And so they pretend and they say you’re doing great when you’re really not. And this makes everyone feel better. Everybody but you."