Black Happiness
twitter: @creamu_ | 17 | Finland | black&white | side blog: http://shirochanaw.tumblr.com/

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Emily Dickinson (via mythologyofblue)

Bring me the sunset in a cup.

You

Crawling through the darkest hall,
Searching for a glimpse of light
And the madhouse other side of the street,
Yelling, weeping, you cannot ignore
I longed for a sound, not for an outcry
And you, spoke with the most calming voice,
Turning words into sentences, forming the most beautiful clauses
The things that you said, I wasn’t all that sure
I didn’t quite catch it at first, what you meant by love
And for a long time I wondered why you kept saying so
Until I realized love is not common for all, it is individual
You made the darkest hall of my mind a bit easier to perceive
The madhouse, less noise brought a little order, very little yelling left to hear
And now, this crawling hardly feels like crawling


© blackhappinesss

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (via setfiresonbabies)

(Source: ovacadoo, via ghostycat)

I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. You’re all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside.

Terribly happy

I am so terribly happy
I am bursting with joy,
Composed and jolly
I am spinning
Like a merry-go-round
The flashing lights,
The colourful horses
It spins and it spins
I am overenergetic,
Full of exciting ideas
I am everywhere
I am going up and dropping down
I am left and right at the same time
I am the ground as I am the sky
I am water, though I am oil
But above all else, I am me
I am so terribly happy
And I think too much
I start feeling blurry

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