She wants to know if I love her, that’s all anyone wants from anyone else, not love itself but the knowledge that love is there, like new batteries in the flashlight in the emergency kit in the hall closet.

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, Jonathan Safran Foer (via nobledragon)

(Source: beingintrepid)

deathbylaughter:

What happens if you fall in love with a writer?

chentryx:

Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or make love at four in the afternoon. They might not sleep at all. Or they might sleep right through the alarm and forget to get you up for work. Or call you home from work to kill a spider. Or refuse to speak to you after finding out you’ve never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. Or spend the last of the rent money on five kinds of soap. Or sell your textbooks for cash halfway through the semester. Or leave you love notes in your pockets. Or wash you pants with Post-It notes in the pockets so your laundry comes out covered in bits of wet paper. They might cry if the Post-It notes are unread all over your pants. It’s an unpredictable life.

But what happens if a writer falls in love with you?

This is a little more predictable. You will find your hemp necklace with the glass mushroom pendant around the neck of someone at a bus stop in a short story. Your favorite shoes will mysteriously disappear, and show up in a poem. The watch you always wear, the watch you own but never wear, the fact that you’ve never worn a watch: they suddenly belong to characters you’ve never known. And yet they’re you. They’re not you; they’re someone else entirely, but they toss their hair like you. They use the same colloquialisms as you. They scratch their nose when they lie like you. Sometimes they will be narrators; sometimes protagonists, sometimes villains. Sometimes they will be nobodies, an unimportant, static prop. This might amuse you at first. Or confuse you. You might be bewildered when books turn into mirrors. You might try to see yourself how your beloved writer sees you when you read a poem about someone who has your middle name or prose about someone who has never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. These poems and novels and short stories, they will scatter into the wind. You will wonder if you’re wandering through the pages of some story you’ve never even read. There’s no way to know. And no way to erase it. Even if you leave, a part of you will always be left behind.

If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die. 

(Source: karenfelloutofbedagain, via sheddingoursummerskin)

TO YOU.

Posting a Nene pic made during PHOTOSHOP PHASE circa 2007 . Nasa Friendster pa ito siguro :)) Gusto ko sana mag-reminisce pero MASYADO MADAMI at MAHABA. Kung message naman, ganun rin. So I’ll let the CHEESY CORNY OH SO NENE-mbarrassing photo speak for itself. TENENEN! (Photos from 1st and 2nd year HS JUSKO.)

Kita mo yung sa likod ng polaroid (POLAROID MY GEDDDDD) may naka-scan na paper? Yun yung Estelle and Annick’s random request! Unang una sa list mo, BEAUTIFUL JAW LINE (katulad nung kay Tom Sturridge!)… sorry pero hanggang ngayon, di ko parin gets yun at bakit YUN ang una sa list mo =)) Tapos sa pinaka baba may nakita akong LEGAL… legal ka na! 18!! =))

TO the Tamaki to my Kyouya, the Bellatrix to my Snape, the Love to my Hate (freshie, tawag mo sa akin Love tawag ko sa iyo Hate pero kung based sa meaning, baliktad tayo kaya ikaw si Love!) and the Ongtalong to my Annabanana.

HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY! I LOVE YOU ALWAYS AND I HOPE YOU WILL ALWAYS BE HAPPY! Thank you for being one of the greatest blessings God has ever given me! (and the cuntss. YAN SINULAT KO NA YUNG KALOKANG BARKADA NAME NATIN =)) )