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February 04 2015

Nie ma nic gorszego niż zazdrosna kobieta. Nie dlatego, że potrafi zmienić się w śledczego i tajnego agenta, nie dlatego, że potrafi zrobić piekło i uprzykrzyć Ci życie, nawet nie dlatego, że daje się spalać tak silnym emocjom, że traci zmysły. To wszystko przykre i niebezpieczne, tak. Ale nie ma nic gorszego niż zazdrosna kobieta. Nie ma bardziej złej, bardziej wynaturzonej istoty niż zazdrosna kobieta. Bo nawet kiedy okażesz jej zrozumienie i wyciągniesz do niej rękę, odgryzie Ci ją i na całe pięć minut uzna to za największy sukces swojego życia, a potem zacznie czaić się na drugą. Nie warto współczuć zazdrosnej kobiecie. Nie warto mieć wobec niej sentymentów. Znacie zaklęcie szatańskiej pożogi z Pottera? Zazdrosna kobieta jest jak szatańska pożoga. Niszczy wszystko na swojej drodze, jest w stanie zabijać dusze kawałek po kawałku. Jeśli nie jesteś wystarczająco złym człowiekiem jedynym wyjściem na opanowanie szatańskiej pożogi jest zamknięcie jej gdzieś, gdzie będzie mogła dopalić się w spokoju.
— I still like to know everything, you know.
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola

February 01 2015

Człowiek pięciu stron świata 01.02.15

Oczy Twoje wskazują południe
Włosy Twoje  północ
Ręce Twoje otwierają wschody
Ręce Twoje zamykają zachody
A Serce Twoje jest tuż przede mną
Reposted fromAmericanlover Americanlover

January 28 2015

I wonder how many people don’t get the one they want, but end up with the one they’re supposed to be with.
— Fannie Flagg, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe (via ohlovequotes)
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola
If you can imagine a future without me and that doesn’t break your heart, then we’re not doing what I thought we were doing here.
— Eric, That 70’s Show (via flyingwithwax)
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola
Be rough with me. Show me what’s up, throw me against the damn wall and claim what’s yours.
— (via a-gaypls)
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola

January 26 2015

I have a special skill of feeling too much when I shouldn’t, and feeling nothing when I should.
Hedonist Poet (via hedonistpoet)
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola
My mother taught me everything, except how to live without her.
— I dread the day I will have to realise this for myself, ya Allah grant both my mother and father good health. (via ah-you-fancy-huh)
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola
You didn’t even have to say you lost feelings, I fucking felt it
26th December 2014 – 10:06PM (via im-not-doing-okay)
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola
If you let her know that she is your priority and remind her from time to time how much you care, you’ll be amazed at how many problems disappear in your relationship.
— (via staypozitive)
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola
Is it really that bad if someone sees who you are? Why is it humans have a problem with letting someone else see that they are human?
— Joseph Gogler (via anamorphosis-and-isolate)
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola
I’ve been in love with someone that didn’t love me back, and I’ve been love by someone that I didn’t love back. And I don’t know which is worse: to be broken or to break another soul.
— C (via howliing-wolves)
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola
I like knowing about everything, and I think that really helps me in my business.
— Martha Stewart
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Lubię na Tobie leżeć. W ogóle lubię na Tobie.
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola

January 20 2015

9399 d766 500
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January 10 2015

3871 2738 500
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January 04 2015

0442 478e
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December 29 2014

1550 5b06
story of my life.
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola

December 17 2014

Six-word stories

Novelist Ernest Hemingway, according to literary legend, was once challenged to write a short story in only six words. Hemingway's story read:
“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”


Ever since then people are obsessed with heartbreaking six-word stories. And so am I, that's why I collected some of my favourites. Pack your bags, we're going on a feels trip.

“Wrong number,” says a familiar voice.

Born a twin; Graduated only child.

Strangers. Friends. Best friends. Lovers. Strangers.

“You’re not a good artist, Adolf.”

Sorry soldier, shoes sold in pairs.

Brought roses home. Keys didn’t fit.

Nobody asks "Why the happy face?"

Found perfect match. Didn't light it.

Cancer. Only three months left. Pregnant.

Table for one, Martinis for two.

Failed life. Attempted suicide. Failed again.

Relationship expires; leaves a bitter aftertaste.

Smoking my very last cigarette. Again.

“Reading For Dummies,” somehow, never sold.

High School graduation gown, maternity size.

Our bedroom. Two voices. I knock.

Partied through life. All 23 years.


Got some more?
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December 11 2014

6967 6fa7 500
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December 02 2014

people so tired
mutilated
either by love or no love.
— Charles Bukowski, Love is a Dog from Hell
Reposted fromstrumienpola strumienpola
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