chimacum rain @caidil-gu-la - Tumblr Blog

Kiki Smith | Banshee Pearls Series | 1991

when is there time??? I fear the answer is never. so there must be a different way to continue, hmm. same old story. what if what if what if.

apoemaday

Just Walking Around

by John Ashbery

What names do I have for you? Certainly there is no name for you In the sense that the stars have names That somehow fit them. Just walking around,

An object of curiosity to some, But you are too preoccupied By the secret smudge in the back of your soul To say much, and wander around,

Smiling to yourself and others. It gets kind of lonely But at the same time off-putting, Counterproductive, as you realize once again

That the longest way is the most efficient way, The one that looped among islands, and You always seemed to be traveling in a circle. And now that the end is near

The segments of the trip swing open like an orange. There is light in there, and mystery and food. Come see it. Come not for me but it. But if I am still there, grant that we may see each other.

i love pulling up to a gas station and it’s 2 other cool looking older women by their cars and I’m playing llhasa de sela with my windows open bass thrumming out of my Prius into the warm summer air.

torisyakutori

retropopcult

Members of the Owls, a black women’s softball team in the 1930s

helenvaughans

Things don't have purposes, as if the universe were a machine, where every part has a useful function. What's the function of a galaxy? I don't know if our life has a purpose and I don't see that it matters. What does matter is that we're a part. Like a thread in a cloth or a grass-blade in a field. It is and we are. What we do is like wind blowing on the grass.

–Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven

charaznablescanontoyota

words of wisdom from wikipedia this evening

falling in love is falling backwards into trust. so many beautiful things I am not sure I want to share on the internet, so I am wondering, where will they be shared? with everything I touch? must be. I’m wondering when I quit wondering and start doing. I’m wondering when I quit having a problem with wondering… seems like maybe it’s the whole point. I wonder if some day I’ll find the appropriate channel for all this creative energy I have. feels like I’ve been searching for it for a long time. I guess my life is the container, the only one I was truly given. so what to do with that information? maybe more of the same… where’s the problem? I keep asking, what is it? it’s a blessing not to know everything. I try to contain and control when it’s a fantasy, but when it’s totally wide open all I can do is ask—what is it? some things are too literal and some colors are too hard to share. it’s weird and hard but it’s happening anyway. I’m in love and I think anyone could know what I mean—it’s the same feeling as any day. no love can stop the heart from breaking, and in fact I have to thank god for that too. somehow I’m alive and here we are. ??? it’s so confusing. but that’s okay! all these flowers are trying to have sex with the sky! water’s flowing downwards, from the mountaintops to the ocean! trillions of seeds lay waiting in the soil! it’s all around happening, including us. I’ll be collecting questions and beautiful things for a long time, might never be finished. will never be finished. <3