- a Portuguese language word difficult to translate adequately, which describes a deep emotional state of nostalgic longing for something or someone that one was fond of and which is lost. It often carries a fatalist tone and a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might really never return.
Saudade has been described as a “vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist … a turning towards the past or towards the future”. A stronger form of saudade may be felt towards people and things whose whereabouts are unknown, such as a lost lover, or a family member who has gone missing. It may also be translated as a deep longing or yearning for something which does not exist or is unattainable.
My nature is to back away when I sense instability in a relationship. It’s comparable to being on a dirt slope. You’re climbing up, you’re confident when your feet are rooted into the ground. You’re safe and secure. Each new step is difficult but ends in success. Until one doesn’t. You try to grasp branches for support but none of them are strong enough; they snap. Each one that breaks increases your panicked frenzy. Your cries for help go unnoticed. The constant attempts at regaining your balance fail. While most would search for their others to help, I just let myself calmly, slowly slip away.
My mind is riddled with thoughts long before any attempts to save myself.
Where were you while I was slipping away? Where were you when my arms were flailing through the leaves? Why weren’t you behind me, pushing me, helping me? Why was I alone? Why weren’t you in front of me, pulling me? Why was I screaming, begging for your aid?
You should have been there for every step. We should have been climbing together. I should have never been alone.
I cannot be with someone who’s only concern is to save them self. Our steps must be in harmony at all times.
“I think everyone’s bisexual to some degree or another; it’s just a question of whether or not you choose to recognise it and embrace it. Personally, I think choosing between men and women is like choosing between cake and ice cream. You’d be daft not to try both when there are so many different flavours.”
— Björk”—(via fulmoun)
“I like women who haven’t lived with too many men. I don’t expect virginity, but I simply prefer women who haven’t been rubbed raw by experience. There is a quality about women who choose men sparingly. It appears in their walk, in their eyes, in their laughter and in their gentle hearts. Women who have had too many men seem to choose the next one out of revenge rather than with feeling. When you play the field selfishly, everything works against you. One can’t insist on love or demand affection. You’re finally left with whatever you have been willing to give, which often is nothing. Some women are delicate things. Some women are delicious and wondrous. If you want to piss on the sun, go ahead. But please leave them alone.”