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Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep. You are in California, Australia, wide awake. Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone. Maybe love is not ready for you. Maybe you are not ready for love. Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type. Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce–love looks older now, but just as beautiful as you remember. Maybe love is only there for a month. Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit.

Maybe love stays. Maybe love can’t. Maybe love shouldn’t.

Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to, and love leaves exactly when love must. When love arrives say, “Welcome, make yourself comfortable.” If love leaves, ask her to leave the door opened behind her. Turn off the music. Listen to the quiet. Whisper, “Thank you for stopping by.

(via beaucoupshade)

(Source: scrambling)

mymodernmet:

Audiovisual artist Joanie Lemercier recently unveiled Nimbes, a spectacular 360º installation that immerses viewers in a breathtaking virtual universe. Created using photography, CGI, laser scans, and projection mapping, the piece takes the audience on a 15-minute journey around the cosmos, displaying constellations, solitary landscapes, and crumbling architectural structures.

You can’t find intimacy—you can’t find home—when you’re always hiding behind masks. Intimacy requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain level of you exposing your fragmented, contradictory self to someone else. You running the risk of having your core self rejected and hurt and misunderstood.
Junot Díaz (via doeraemie)

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