Quite simply, I was in love with New York. I do not mean “love” in any colloquial way, I mean that I was in love with the city, the way you love the first person who ever touches you and you never love anyone quite that way again. I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring, or the second spring, they were all alike for a while. I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later – because I did not belong there, did not come from there – but when you are twenty-two or twenty-three, you figure that later you will have a high emotional balance, and be able to pay whatever it costs. I still believed in possibilities then, still had the sense, so peculiar to New York, that something extraordinary would happen any minute, any day, any month.
- “Goodbye To All That,” Joan Didion (via commovente)
(via paper-trees)
What if you didn’t run? This one time. What if you stayed, and let love overtake you?
- Josh Bennett (via thesouldrifter)
(Source: angiewrites, via paper-trees)
(Source: where-the-heart-is)
posted 2 days ago
That frightening moment when you start wondering what the hell you are doing
(Source: theirgraves, via apareil)
(via assertively)
(via sexual-passion)
(Source: -circa, via lucyintheskype)
