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"If you’re happy in a dream…does that count? The happiness–does it count?" - From The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy (via hush-syrup)

(via 20s-econds)



15,594 notes | Reblog

baphocishet:

"Weird at last, weird at last. God almighty, weird at last." 

I. [x][x][x][x] / II. [x][x][x][x] / III. [x][x][x][x] / IV. [x][x][x][x] / V. [x][x][x][x]

Welcome to Night Vale

(via holdontotheanchor)


"

So when people leave, I’ve learned the secret: let them. Because, most of the time, they have to.

Let them walk away and go places. Let them have adventures in the wild without you. Let them travel the world and explore life beyond a horizon that you exist in. And know, deep down, that heroes aren’t qualified by their capacity to stay but by their decision to return.

" - The Staying Philosophy (Everyday Isa)

(Source: everydayisa.wordpress.com, via mobywhite)



19,749 notes | Reblog

(Source: , via sk-eptical)


i have seen like 0 movies



2 notes | Reblog tagged: #what are some good movies

"I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days — three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain." - John Keats, Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne (via petrichour)

(via poemsofthequiet)



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(via woman-unkind)

tagged: #favorite!!! #album!!!

"I am myself. That is not enough." - Sylvia Plath, “The Jailer,” from Ariel: The Restored Edition (via lifeinpoetry)

(via ribcagepoet)



906 notes | Reblog

"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there." - Rumi (via observando)

(via thedarkdarkbright)



484 notes | Reblog

(Source: abattoirette, via 10100101001001011)

this is what my bed spread looks like

this is what my bed spread looks like

(Source: pelicancrazy, via e-mbryonic)


"He said the pleasantest manner of spending a hot July day was lying from morning till evening on a bank of heath in the middle of the moors, with the bees humming dreamily about among the bloom, and the larks singing high up overhead, and the blue sky and bright sun shining steadily and cloudlessly. That was his most perfect idea of heaven’s happiness — mine was rocking in a rustling green tree, with a west wind blowing, and bright white clouds flitting rapidly above; and not only larks, but throstles, and blackbirds, and linnets, and cuckoos pouring out music on every side, and the moors seen at a distance, broken into cool dusky dells; but close by great swells of long grass undulating in waves to the breeze; and woods and sounding water, and the whole world awake and wild with joy. He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle and dance in a glorious jubilee. I said his heaven would be only half alive, and he said mine would be drunk; I said I should fall asleep in his, and he said he could not breathe in mine." - Emily Brontë, from Wuthering Heights (via violentwavesofemotion)

380 notes | Reblog

(Source: vgjunk, via nick1470)


a year ago tonight I was at an Aesop Rock concert with a cool boy



2 notes | Reblog tagged: #:(
campsis:

yelena bryksenkova: la boum III: the breakdown

campsis:

yelena bryksenkova: la boum III: the breakdown

(via euo)