La Injusticia es una Enfermedad.

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La Injusticia es una Enfermedad.

"Sometimes I find myself sitting in one spot for hours, staring at nothing, thinking of nothing, feeling nothing, and, most disturbingly, caring about nothing."
Mahbod Seraji, Rooftops of Tehran  (via biscuitchai)

(Source: feellng, via dawnoftheprotozoha)


I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Pablo Neruda (via observando)

"Deshacerme de ti fue eso, des-hacerme.
Ahora me toca armarme de nuevo, ahora si, con armas."
Edgar Oceransky (via factumrevistaliteraria)

"Entonces lo pensé. Que, en este mundo, lo que ven nuestros ojos no tiene por qué ser verdad."
Haruki Murakami - Sputnik, mi amor (via ejsp)

"We are very good at preparing to live, but not very good at living. We know how to sacrifice ten years for a diploma, and we are willing to work very hard to get a job, a car, a house, and so on. But we have difficulty remembering that we are alive in the present moment, the only moment there is for us to be alive."
Thich Nhat Hanh (via psych-facts)

"No mi amigo, usted no entiende, a la mujer si se le quiere debe ser constante, eso de amarla hoy y dejar pasar un mes para hacerlo de nuevo no funciona… Sea constante o prepárese para perderla por siempre."
M. Benedetti (via nostalgicaosadia)


I want to make love to your existence,
drenched in colors of your energy,
then masturbate, to the memories.
I wanna lose myself inside yourself…
Until you find me. Confine me,
to the freedom of your prison.
Exist in the same space, same time.
Combine until your thoughts slow grind with mine.

My, I wanna drink the sweat of your intellect,
reflect, and watch your light passion walk my neck.
Caress the sights of your presence with no question,
undress to the nakedness of love, pure love.
I want to make love to my soulmate… my soulmate…
make love to my soulmate…my soulmate…
make love to my soulmate, uh shit…
I wonder, how does it feel to make love to your soulmate.
Kind of like writing poetry till climax,
till the point and place where space and time match.
Can we cross the line, perhaps tell me would you like that.
Now would you like that, tell me would you like that,
would you like that, tell me would you like that,
would you like that, tell me?

I’m gonna ask you again now, tell me..
Would you like that, tell me would you like that,
now would you like that, tell me would you like that,
would you like that, tell me…

I want to love you more than madly.
Wrap these legs around your words,
until your speech is straddled deep, gladly.
Swim the currents of your vibrations,
be separate in one
with the same meditation…
Uh the same meditation…

Uh you know what…
This, right here is poetry.


"Before I kissed you
The idea of your lips was foreign,
But after i kissed you,
Holy fuck I couldnt get enough,
You were like my drug,
I was addicted to you.
I am addicted to you."
Its 3am and my thoughts are on you again (via ivelost-my-god-damn-fuckingmind)