“People think dreams aren’t real just because they aren’t made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes.”—Neil Gaiman (via salveo)
Get in your car, pick up a friend and go. Doesn't really matter where, just go somewhere.
Today, while wandering about with a friend, I ended up in a place where I used to go as a kid. It’s a little playground close to the woods. I had almost forgotten about it. I must have looked just like a child running, laughing, towards the swing.
“I want someone to call me up and say, “I’m outside. Let’s go do something!” I want to go out late at night in my pj’s and my hair all tied up. Maybe drive around. Go to a park and just swing on the swings. Maybe sit in the grass and watch the stars or maybe go to a 24 hour food place and pig out. I just want a late night adventure with people I like to be around. No drama. Nothing but good vibes and good company.”—Unknown (via salveo)
I’ll tell you another secret, this one for your own good. You may think the past has something to tell you.l You may think that you should listen, should train to make out its whispers, should bend over backward, stoop down low to hear its voice breathed up from the ground, from the dead places. You may think there’s something in it for you, something to understand or make sense of.
But I know the truth: I know from the nights of Coldness. I know the past will drag you backward and down, have you snatching at whispers of wind and the gibberish of trees rubbing together, trying to decipher some code, trying to piece together what was broken. It’s hopeless. The past is nothing but a weight. It will build inside of you like a stone.
Take it from me: If you hear the past speaking to you, feel it tugging at your back and running its fingers up your spine, the best thing to do - the only thing - is run.