Message random |
|
 wanderer(s)

life:

“You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You’re chicken, you’ve got no guts. You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, “Okay, life’s a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.” You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.”

life:

“You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You’re chicken, you’ve got no guts. You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, “Okay, life’s a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.” You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.”

(via deflections)

"…I remember that time that you told me, you said
“Love is touching souls”
Surely you touched mine
“Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time…"

from Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You” (via clavicola)

(Source: commovente)

chicagoartnerd:

ohneooo:

beast-of-joy:

The concept is simple. Take a blank sheet with nothing but the basic outline of a pinup girl and illustrate a unique scene around her.”

This is fucking amazing.

Whoa. Now I wanna do this! 8D

Denise Levertov, “Keeping Track”

sharingpoetry:

Between chores—
                        hulling strawberries,
                        answering letters—
or between poems,

returning to the mirror
to see if I’m there.

(submitted by communicatedtodeath)

(via theoceanwithin)

"Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
Oscar Wilde (via forbiddenalleys)

(Source: wabybaby420, via the-girl-who-leapt-through-time)

That’s what we tell ourselves.

1. That there’s always someone out there for everyone. That we should just wait. But that’s a lie. Because sometimes there isn’t anybody. And sometimes people do end up alone.

2. That it’s going to be okay. That everything will work out for the best. But that’s a lie. Because sometimes things end up shittier than we expected. Andmost of the time sometimes there is no happy ending.

3. That there’s a God. That we’ll meet each other again in the afterlife. That people are in a ‘better place’ after they die and that we should be happy that they are with our “creator.” But that’s a lie. Because when you really look deep inside yourself, you know those words are just meant to comfort us. They aren’t true. There is no God. We die and that’s it.

4. That people will eventually get what they deserve. That justice will prevail. But that’s a lie. Because sometimes the guilty do walk free. And sometimes the innocents are the ones punished. 

But how shall we live with ourselves if we do not lie? We lie and get through. There’s no point in this post. Because life is a series of lies. And we just go with the current until we die.

once i tried to fly

and i did

and it was beautiful

but gravity 

and reality

are apparently 

the same thing

so

"We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all that we need to make us happy is something to be enthusiastic about."
Einstein (via bridgettelizabeth)

(via booklover)

emilygt:

shesinacoma:

Sylvia Plath, Mad Girl’s Love Song

I’ll never get over the beauty of these four lines

emilygt:

shesinacoma:

Sylvia Plath, Mad Girl’s Love Song

I’ll never get over the beauty of these four lines

(via deflections)


Sylvia Plath’s room in the former Barbizon Hotel for Women — which she renamed the “Amazon” for its appearance in The Bell Jar.

Sylvia Plath’s room in the former Barbizon Hotel for Women — which she renamed the “Amazon” for its appearance in The Bell Jar.

(Source: r4tical, via funeral)

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