First of all, love is a joint experience between two persons — but the fact that it is a joint experience does not mean that it is a similar experience to the two people involved. There are the lover and the beloved, but these two come from different countries. Often the beloved is only a stimulus for all the stored-up love which had lain quiet within the lover for a long time hitherto. And somehow every lover knows this. He feels in his soul that his love is a solitary thing. He comes to know a new, strange loneliness and it is this knowledge which makes him suffer. So there is only one thing for the lover to do. He must house his love within himself as best he can; he must create for himself a whole new inward world — a world intense and strange, complete in himself. Let it be added here that this lover about whom we speak need not necessarily be a young man saving for a wedding ring — this lover can be man, woman, child, or indeed any human creature on this earth.

Now, the beloved can also be of any description. The most outlandish people can be the stimulus for love. A man may be a doddering great-grandfather and still love only a strange girl he saw in the streets of Cheehaw one afternoon two decades past. The preacher may love a fallen woman. The beloved may be treacherous, greasy-headed, and given to evil habits. Yes, and the lover may see this as clearly as anyone else — but that does not affect the evolution of his love one whit. A most mediocre person can be the object of a love which is wild, extravagant, and beautiful as the poison lilies of the swamp. A good man may be the stimulus for a love both violent and debased, or a jabbering madman may bring about in the soul of someone a tender and simple idyll. Therefore, the value and quality of any love is determined solely by the lover himself.

It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almost everyone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved. The lover craves any possible relation with the beloved, even if this experience can cause him only pain.

solangie-kuroi:

Hotarubi no Mori e :33

People can have lovers. They can have friends. They can be together. But when you think about it, you’ll see that originally, we’re alone.
Osaki Nana, Nana (via kuro-with-quotes)

"Someone tell me how I got here
from the city to this frontier.
All the noises join to make
spirits fly at the speed of light
traveling like a train one night.”


ARTIST: Suneohair
SONG: Akai Coat
ALBUM: Akai Coat

Image SourcePixiv Id 448000 


ARTIST: Vancouver Sleep Clinic
SONG: Aftermath
ALBUM: Winter
When I first met you, that’s what I remember. I looked up at the sky and thought, I’m going to love this person because even the sky looks different.
Margaret Stohl,  Beautiful Chaos (via lovemelana)

(Source: quotes-shape-us)


ARTIST: Pink Martini & The Von Trapps
SONG: Kuroneko No Tango
ALBUM: Dream a Little Dream

Japon şarkıları haftasında bugün, kara kedinin tangosuyla karşınızdayız.

… and I just damn well wasn’t going to shine my shoes for them, I told Seymour. I said they couldn’t see them anyway, where we sat. He said to shine them anyway. He said to shine them for the Fat Lady. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but he had a very Seymour look on his face, and so I did it. He never did tell me who the Fat Lady was, but I shined my shoes for the Fat Lady every time I went on the air again …

… But I’ll tell you a terrible secret - Are you listening to me? There isn’t anyone out there who isn’t Seymour’s Fat Lady.
J.D. Salinger, from Franny and Zooey (via veemignon)