Oh. how it feels to feel. How truly lucky I am to just feel. To feel it all. To feel pain, to feel sadness, to feel joy, to feel anger. For a second there I forgot how fortunate I am. I forgot about the energy in my bloodstream. The violent, unrestricted energy that moves me. Moves me to scream, and dance, and sing, and fight, and fornicate, and kiss and make up. That feverish, relentless energy that takes me to where I wanna go. I say “there,” and I’m there. You say “where?” and we’re halfway around the world. And to think the beauty of my body is only half that of my brain. How flawlessly we fit together; awfully flawless. I see things in colour, I smell flowers in the springtime. I hear babies cry and airplanes fly, and lectures from those who raised me. I decide things and create things and take one thing and turn it into some other thing. I panic about my future or regret things I’ve done in the past. I love and I lust and I hope and I pray that I don’t ever fail to remember how great it feels to just feel.
John O’Callaghan, “It Feels Great.” (x)

Ese momento que piensas: “me quiero quedar aquí siempre”.
Y no es un lugar.
(via a–z–u–l)

(via tulipanesenoctubre)