breathing

In my heaven sweet melodies of the skies ripple pool of the sea playing sweet song to me, sharing tales of the past, blending with mine as mirage, painting new...I breathe in, am in love and alive...

Conscious breathing is the best antidote to stress, anxiety and depression.

Beautify your breath _ beautify your life.

Life is beauty simply breathing.

Breathing dreams like air

Some people are still alive only because they find being dead more boring than being alive.

The Tantric sages tell us that our in-breath and out-breath actually mirror the divine creative gesture. With the inhalation, we draw into our own center, our own being. With the exhalation, we expand outward into the world.

At this moment, you are seamlessly flowing with the cosmos. There is no difference between your breathing and the breathing of the rain forest, between your bloodstream and the world__ rivers, between your bones and the chalk cliffs of Dover.

I get so god damn lonely and sad and filled with regrets some days. It overwhelms me as I__ sitting on the bus; watching the golden leaves from a window; a sudden burst of realisation in the middle of the night. I can__ help it and I can__ stop it. I__ alone as I__e always been and sometimes it hurts_. but I__ learning to breathe deep through it and keep walking. I__ learning to make things nice for myself. To comfort my own heart when I wake up sad. To find small bits of friendship in a crowd full of strangers. To find a small moment of joy in a blue sky, in a trip somewhere not so far away, a long walk an early morning in December, or a handwritten letter to an old friend simply saying __ thought of you. I hope you__e well.__o one will come and save you. No one will come riding on a white horse and take all your worries away. You have to save yourself, little by little, day by day. Build yourself a home. Take care of your body. Find something to work on. Something that makes you excited, something you want to learn. Get yourself some books and learn them by heart. Get to know the author, where he grew up, what books he read himself. Take yourself out for dinner. Dress up for no one but you and simply feel nice. it__ a lovely feeling, to feel pretty. You don__ need anyone to confirm it.I get so god damn lonely and sad and filled with regrets some days, but I__ learning to breathe deep through it and keep walking. I__ learning to make things nice for myself. Slowly building myself a home with things I like. Colors that calm me down, a plan to follow when things get dark, a few people I try to treat right. I don__ sometimes, but it__ my intent to do so. I__ learning.I__ learning to make things nice for myself. I__ learning to save myself.I__ trying, as I always will.

That kiss you gave me was the hottest kiss i've ever had. I pulled away because i was afraid i wouldn't be able to stop myself from ripping off your clothes. And that didn't seem like the right way to end a first date. I didn't want you to think that was all i was interested in."She stared at him. There was silence again, but this time she didn't worry about how long it went on."Why didn't you tell me?" She said finally."I tried to, but every time i saw you afterward you disappeared. I got the feeling you were avoiding me.""i didn't want things to be awkward.""Yeah, there was nothing awkward about you hiding behind a plant when i came into the dining hall at lunch on wednesday.""I wasn't hiding. I was, um, breathing. You know, oxygen. From the plant. Very oxygenated, that air is.""Of course. I should have thought of that.""It's a healthy thing. Not many people know about it.

NOT UNTIL I MET YOUNot until I felt your sunshine,Did I realize that I had been in the shade.Not until I saw all your colors,Did I realize that mine had faded.Not until I heard your dreams,Did I realize that I was still sleeping.And not until I experienced my life with you,Did I realize that I was barelyBreathing.

Dad is and always will be my living, breathing superhero.

I guess I wanted to leave America for awhile. It wasn't that I wanted to become an expatriate, or just never come back, I needed some breathing room. I'd already been translating French poetry, I'd been to Paris once before and liked it very much, and so I just went.

I am never alone wherever I am. The air itself supplies me with a century of love. When I breathe in, I am breathing in the laughter, tears, victories, passions, thoughts, memories, existence, joys, moments, and the hues of the sunlight on many tones of skin; I am breathing in the same air that was exhaled by many before me. The air that bore them life. And so how can I ever say that I am alone?

But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.

I'm thankful to be breathing, on this side of the grass. Whatever comes, comes.

Politics can be relatively fair in the breathing spaces of history; at its critical turning points there is no other rule possible than the old one, that the end justifies the means.

Oh no. Don't smile. You'll kill me. I stop breathing when you smile.