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“Tani për tani, ajo që quan dashuri është e drejtuar te dikush, është e kufizuar për një person. Por dashuria nuk është një fenomen që mund të jetë i kufizuar. Mund ta mbash në pëllëmbë të dorës së hapur, por jo në grushte mbyllur. Sapo duart mbyllen, janë bosh; sapo hapen, e gjithë jeta është me ty.”

OSHO - Me ty dhe pa ty

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Shoh njerez qe ecin rruges me iden qe nuk ja dim vleren diçkaje deri sa ta humbim. Gabimi me i madh! Sikur t’ja dish vleren diçkaje, nuk i kishe dhene shume rendesi krenaris, nervave e inatit, por kishe kerkuar falje, e kishe bere gjithcka per ta rikthyer ate “dicka”, ne kete rast “ate person”. Po ne fakt, gjitha eshte gabim qe ne fillim. Tani i ruajme kujtimet tona me tru. Me mendje. Dhe keshtu cdo gje perfundon ne harres. E zemra cfare ben? Cfare lidhje ka zemra pra? Dashurin, kujtimet me te bukura, leri ne zemer. Sepse zemra do harroj vetem kur te ndalet. Vetem kur mos te kete jete me, e kur mos te kete arsye me. Momentet e keqija leri ne tru, sepse truri ka shume gjera cdo dite dhe disa prej atyre momenteve do te harrohen. Krenaria do te zbutet. A e di kur e kupton te verteten? Atehere kur te mungon dikush aq shume, sa qe fillon mendon se je gjysem robi. Kur s’e ke pjesen plotesuese. Gjume s’fle. Mundohesh te harrosh gjithcka ne menyra te ndryshme, por ne fakt vec i ben skulptur ne tru e ne zemer ato gjera. Keshtu qe mos humb kohe; fal, duaj, jeto...

[the-blonder-the-better4-blog]

Best thing i've ever read✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻

i would skip class for love. a few periods at first and when they became more often, it didn’t even matter anymore. i would cancel plans with my friends, love wouldn’t even notice. love thought it was okay. when some students read my poems, they began to clap in unison. love got jealous because some boys asked for my number and love never told me he liked my poems. Love would bite my neck and I’d kiss his. For a long time I thought they were the same thing. one time, love left me waiting for three days. I didn’t hear from love and I prayed he was okay. love was always okay. love never told me anything. i had to figure it out myself. when me and love had sex, I felt alive and so did my lungs. love was my first. love tried to convince me I wasn’t a virgin, so when I fought with my mother, he said it wasn’t his fault. 

 when love first left me, it was November and i remember that month being colder than usual. it was the first time somebody had ever left me and i could not believe it was LOVE l o v e / love had left me the world was ending/ 

when love came back, it was March and i remember my heart being so happy i could hear it sing. sunsets and sunrises made sense that month, I even remember myself crying when I hugged love, after love had come back. love was happy and i knew i was on love’s mind. three months were a long period for love to stay, so love left on June. June was very hot, June was burning me up, June didn’t care I had a broken heart, June was made for loving and leaving.

I met real love on July. Real love would walk me to class and kiss my forehead. Real love would ask me whether I had plans with my friends and whenever I didn’t, I ran to real love. Real love loved my poems, he would  read them so many times as if he was to learn them by heart. Real love laughed at boys who asked for my number, he only got jealous when I didn’t give him attention. Real love always had my attention, but real love wasn’t there for a long time. when real love pushed me against the bathroom sink, it felt like March all over again.  i couldn’t define his taste, but love tasted so much better. Real love never made me wait, one time, real love didn’t reply to my texts for four hours and he called to say he was sorry. real love liked to make sure i was feeling okay. and at times, i was okay. / love wasn’t there love wasn’t there love wasn’t there/ I left real love on September. I didn’t even tell him why.

Somehow, on October, love found its way back to me, and i let love in. love hadn’t changed. love was the same. i skipped class for love again. recently, i understood why i only write sad poems when i’m with love. love is always around. love is waiting for me to feel weak and call him. i call love whenever I feel empty and need new things to write about. love is always the same. i sit around and wait for love to change. love will never change. 

— love never leaves and that’s probably the saddest part. 

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Just like that, you’ll start to forget too You’ll forget the color of his eyes, then the exact shade of his hair, they way it framed his face The shape of his lips, the way they pressed against you own, a silent promise beneath the admiration of an evening sunset The ghost of your name under his breath, as you took his breath away yet again, as if your entire existence was a miracle His snarl, the way you heard him yell for the first time, the despair inducing words that poured out from behind his lips, The despair you felt in your soul when he picked someone else over you, when he broke that promise, broke the trust, broke the image of the person you thought you knew. You’ll forget it all, the same way he forgot you

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write (via sunflowerletters)

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E di pse ndonjehere jeta nuk te jep ate qe kerkon ? Jo sepse nuk e meriton, po sepse ndoshta ti meriton edhe me shume se kaq .

Food for your thoughts (via ajenamire)

💯

(via deboragjinaj)

Yas🙌🏻

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Najher nëse malli për mu t'merr 😍

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ftyra e saj pikturë me u vu n'ankand nuk ka çmim me u ble

(via sheblewhismind)

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That girl been drinkin' all day, need to change bladder. #often