your hands like towers over me

i am sick of formulas. i am sick of systems and concepts that are only sized to fit inside our head, but never thick enough to fill my heart. i need something more than the mathematical charts and explanation theories. i need it because even when all these answers run away the feelings never will. and i don’t want some shelf to leave the weight of my faith on, pretending this universe is a magic eight ball i can shake for a prediction. i need something more than the text, the hope, the safety blanket that reassures contradiction. i need a relationship with something, and i need to know it’s not at the tips of my fingers or hovering on the surface of my rational head. i need something that breaks the laws of rationality, because my heart does not speak the language. my soul does not intertwine with reality, cannot make sense of reason, and acknowledges a thousand things that exist outside the range of my words. and it needs to know that something unconditional exist. it needs to know that compassion is not some hoax we use to survive. it needs wonder to nourish it. it needs poetry to speak to it. stars that sit pure and wet with purpose to assure it. these mechanics of our actions can speak loudly to my head, but are silent to my heart. and that seems, to me, the most important thing to get through to. i don’t need a formula. i don’t need a reason to believe i’m not alone. i don’t need anything to validate my existence. i need something that speaks to my heart.

500 Days of Summer

via (hopelessly lovedrunk)