Mind Scribbles

Nicole, 22. 🍸 I love Led Zeppelin, stargazing, and chocolate. Violinist, guitarist, and song writer. "Throw me a line. If I reach it in time, I'll meet you up there where the path runs straight and high." 🌠🌵🌙

[arcaneimages]

[sadsilvernymph]

Schoep, a 19 year old dog, is taken into the lake every night by his owner, John, to help soothe his arthritis and help him fall asleep. 

this is love. this is love. this is love.

[florencias-clothes-deactivated2]

Amazing.

[atticaliveshere]

I miss our blue blanket. I miss the smell of your mother’s bathroom soap. I miss baking brownies together. I miss walking into my house 10, 15, 30 minutes past curfew. I miss blasting Tera Melos in your car. I miss drinking with you. I miss having the house to ourselves. I miss showing you the summer triangle– Vega, Deneb, and Altair.

God only knows if we’ll have another summer like that.

[atticaliveshere]

You are a Christmas tree, lit up and warm among the snow. You are the kick drum. You are a fall sweater. You are a quarter on the floor of an arcade. You are the first album I ever heard by a band that I fell in love with.

[atticaliveshere]

February

I hope that someday I get you so drunk that you cry and tell me you wish

we never broke up.

I hope that the next time you spin that record, you remember

I gave it to you our first (and maybe only)

Christmas together.

Remember walking me down the block in six feet of snow? It seemed as high as you.

As high as you were when we looked out over the cars and onto the land where semen stained the mountaintops.

[atticaliveshere]

Ripe cherries, swollen fruit– the next day it will be rotten.

Salt butter, brown syrup, whipped cream.

W e a r e Stacked like pancakes.

And you are gentle, like a father with a firm hand.

[theparisreview]

Poets don’t have an ‘audience’: They’re talking to a single person all the time.

Robert Graves, The Art of Poetry No. 11 (via theparisreview)

[atticaliveshere]

I miss the sunlight in your house.

[cokeinaglassbottle-deactivated2]

nothing will ruin your 20s more than thinking you should have your life together already.

I need to write this on every wall of my room. (via thisyearsgirls)

[weirdnessisgood]

The Room

[officialunitedstates]

insane bolt is probably not even the fastest man.  the fastest man probably is just too shy to want to run in the olympics

[atticaliveshere]

He’ll seek me out and kill me and then you’ll be sorry. You’ll be sorry. Remember that night? No money for alcohol. I was pushed over in the crowd. Kill me. Kill me. A six foot tall body and size 11 shoes hail on my head. The priestess with golden hair helps me up. You push me. She pushes me. Dark hair. I push back. After all the fucking shit we’ve done I never thought I would want to die.

Stacked like pancakes. Fucking. Engorged fruit. Fucking. Blue eggs. Fucking. The next day it will be rotten.

I’m no better than the dirt in Texas on the ground that I will walk on I will Not think of you Will be long gone by then I will become empowered I will be Queen but I am sick In my brain I feel that I am fucked Up in the sky my Angels I see The priestess told me she would be watching but I know they’ve left me now.

God only knows what I’d be without you.

[atticaliveshere]

I hate myself

[atticaliveshere]

If I really loved myself I would make it stop

[atticaliveshere]

Collapse crying on each other and it means nothing

[atticaliveshere]

After all the shit we've shared

[lazyyogi]

You’ll seldom experience regret for anything that you’ve done. It is what you haven’t done that will torment you. The message, therefore, is clear. Do it! Develop an appreciation for the present moment. Seize every second of your life and savor it.

Wayne Dyer (via lazyyogi)

[stoicremains-deactivated2017102]

[…] Everyone tries to make his life a work of art. We want love to last and we know that it does not last; even if, by some miracle, it were to last a whole lifetime, it would still be incomplete. Perhaps, in this insatiable need for perpetuation, we should better understand human suffering, if we knew that it was eternal. It appears that great minds are, sometimes, less horrified by suffering than by the fact that it does not endure. In default of inexhaustible happiness, eternal suffering would at least give us a destiny. But we do not even have that consolation, and our worst agonies come to an end one day. One morning, after many dark nights of despair, an irrepressible longing to live will announce to us the fact that all is finished and that suffering has no more meaning than happiness.

Albert Camus, The Rebel. (via i-want-to-hide-in-my-closet)