Unrequited Love.

Annie, 16. Born in NY, residing in the Bay. Get to know me, not about me. If you are from school, don't follow me please.

(Source: partytights)

"If you live consciously, if you try to bring consciousness to every act that you go through, you will be living in a silent, blissful state, in serenity, in joy, in love. Your life will have the flavour of a festival. That is the meaning of heaven: your life will have many flowers in it, much fragrance will be released through you. You will have an aura of delight. Your life will be a song of life-affirmation, it will be a sacred yes to all that existence is. You will be in communion with existence — in communion with stars, with the trees, with the rivers, with the mountains, with people, with animals. This whole life and this whole existence will have a totally different meaning for you. From every nook and corner, rivers of bliss will be flowing towards you. Heaven is just a name for that state of mind. Hell means you are living so unconsciously, so absurdly, in such contradiction, that you go on creating more and more misery for yourself." 

Osho (via aeloquence)

(Source: beautemillesimee)

Gianni Versace and his supermodels backstage at S/S 1993

thenastygal:

Words of wisdom from an ‘03 Nylon

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Getting back into that John Mayer.

So tired. 

I’m tired of having such awkward encounters with you. Bottom line, I just don’t want to see you anymore. Why do you keep showing up in the strangest situations? You mean nothing to me and every time I see you it reminds me of how you meant the world to me. I look upon you and think, I used to love every inch of you. When I look upon you now, my mind goes blank. It’s like a stark room, with no lovely furniture or paintings. It’s shockingly empty and the paint is peeling off the walls. I suppose that’s what happens when you neglect someone. My mind is thrown into confusion when it tries to balance before and now. It’s so difficult to look upon someone you loved, know that there’s nothing there anymore, and be content with that. You’ve changed, or maybe it’s just me. Then again, it’s probably me. You’re still the same old Elliot you always were, it’s just that all the things I used to adore are now all the things I despise. I couldn’t help cringing through some of your actions/words, as terrible as it sounds. If I truly tried, I could possibly dredge up forgotten feelings. Problem is, that’s not what I want. I just don’t want you anymore, in any way. I don’t want you as a lover or a friend. I want you to be nothing. 

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings." 

Anaïs Nin (via hucke)

(Source: black-wolves)