No one should scroll past this
*cries* I am physically inable to not reblog this
You know what I just noticed about myself? I just realized that every time someone has hurt me in some significant way, I can never view them the way I had before. I’ll never laugh the same, I’ll never feel comfortable around them, and I’ll never fully trust them. It’s like when you handle a small exchange of words to this person.. and you’re forced into a position where you do have to talk to them— you don’t tend to let your eyes stray, and you seem to concentrate more on their face. Reading their eyes and paying attention to the slightest detail this person has to offer. Your posture becomes a bit more tense, shoulders a bit more squared, and your spine a bit more rigid. Because the truth is, when you know what a person is capable of— they can be complete strangers to you. And it’s weird because you can look them in the eye.. and spend all your time reading, observing, second-guessing, but you will still never fully know their intentions or whether their actions are of malice or sincerity. All they really are, are strangers.
“Volio sam kiše u Sarajevu. Ušao bih u stan i našao te pored prozora Očaranu običnim pljuskom. Šta je toliko romantično u vodi koja kapa iz oblaka Pitao bih A ti me zagrlila i rekla da najbolje mirišem Kad pada kiša. Opet je kiša u Sarajevu. Nervozni stranci sa kišobranima žure svojim domovima A ja gledam u nebo mokar do kože Smrdim na cigarete, alkohol i nadu I samo bih tebi Večeras Dobro mirisao.”
— (via sarajevski-john-doe )
Poznajem je jako dobro
Što se kaže znam je u dušu
Tvdoglava je to osoba
Koja ide glavom kroz zid
Što zacrta to tako mora i da bude
I zamjerim joj to
Ali njen osmijeh učini da zaboravim na sve to
I da je na kraju uhvatim za ruku
I idem sa njom glavom kroz zid.