Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.  —Buddha

arpeggia:

Design by Shirley-Ann Dick

rawbdz:

Anything for love

This is the term that makes the jumper jump.
It is the term that amplifies silence and allows it to deafen you.
This is the term that digs it’s nails into the skin of your chest, digs in and pushes all the way through you.
This is why we cry.
This is the term that changes things.
It’s what has us flipping back through the old pages of our calendars, that suddenly seem much more sacred than they day we tore them off.
It deflates our lungs and shackles our hands over our eyes.
This is the term that can be read in every salty stream down your cheeks.
It’s that thing we’ll always be just out of reach of.
That we never quite make it to.
The bus we always miss, the lost we can never find.
It stains the bed sheets, lingers in the doorway and is written in the empty space between our fingers.
It can be found in passenger seats when no one is riding shotgun.

And I find it when nothing in my laundry advertises baseball.
It’s the word that has replaced your face as the thing I wake up to.
It’s the word I hate most of all, the worst word we know. Gone..
And I never knew just how bad it could really be until it found you.