September 15, 2014

(Source: agrosmortuis, via kncklpck)

September 15, 2014

(Source: 2076, via capnotic)

September 15, 2014


[walks up to a straight couple] so which one of you is the dayman and which of you is the nightman

(via divinedorothy)

September 15, 2014



im really fucking sarcastic for someone who’s about to start crying most of the time

(via panicofpassion)

September 15, 2014

Just so y’all know, I’m seeing Conor Oberst tomorrow and I can’t even fathom it.

It’s been three years, yet another parallel.

September 15, 2014
Situations seem to happen to people, but in reality, they unfold from deeper karmic causes. The universe unfolds to itself, bringing to bear any cause that needs to be included. Don’t take this process personally. The working out of cause and effect is eternal. You are part of this rising and falling that never ends, and only by riding the wave can you ensure that the waves don’t drown you. The ego takes everything personally, leaving no room for higher guidance or purpose. If you can, realize that a cosmic plan is unfolding and appreciate the incredibly woven tapestry for what it is, a design of unparalleled marvel.
Deepak Chopra (via purplebuddhaproject)

(via superpuppyboostadore)

September 14, 2014
I think I might always be in some kind of love with you.
F. Cabanes (via stevenbong)

(Source: pinkrobotboogaloo, via notamandabynes)

September 14, 2014

So I’m going to publish some things by the end of the year, I hope.

September 14, 2014
Traveling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, ‘I would stay and love you, but I have to go.
Lisa St Aubin de Terán  (via petite-ben)

(Source: travelingilove, via notamandabynes)

September 14, 2014

An Open Letter to Declination


Imagine this:

a ring on my finger

a glass of wine on the living room table.

Watch me do this.

I’m only allowed to dip my fingertips in

to test the temperature

the weather’s fine here

on the outside.

You say what song caught your ear first

and I listen to that over, and over

until I’m in it.

A phone rings above me

sounds of screen doors slammed and faucets

and always the clock.

Imagine this:

split lips.

A loud laugh in the distance.

Hands and teeth.

Grass underneath

some headlights move positions around the room

and I don’t know what you want me to do.

Imagine this:

glasses on the bedside table

both full and to see.

A tired sort of spending

time and swept away

your body pressed against me.