[colorful4japan]

A window of a temple

Kyoto,Japan

2012

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

“No matter how good you are with words, it's inevitable that meaning is lost between your mind and someone else's. Trying to communicate is like throwing a cup of water at a thirsty person's face. It's better than nothing, sure, and a teaspoon of water might hit their lips, but oh, God, there's just so much water in the grass.”

— Jacqueline Novak, How to Weep in Public: Feeble Offerings on Depression from One Who Knows

[kisxmesoft]

[journalofanobody]

“Soul of all souls, life of all life - you are That. Seen and unseen, moving and unmoving - you are That. The road that leads to the City is endless; Go without head and feet and you’ll already be there. What else could you be? - you are That.””

—  Rumi

[journalofanobody]

“i laughed today. / for a second i was unhaunted. i was the sun, not light / from some dead star.”

— Danez Smith, from “it began right here,” Don’t Call Us Dead (via lifeinpoetry)

[heavensghost]

Words by Andrea Gibson

[toiich]

Cafe in the Globe bookstore, Prague, 1994

Photograph by Gueorgui Pinkhassov

[journalofanobody]

“How can desire fail?”

— Denise Levertov, from Candles in Babylon: Poems; “Beginners,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[kafkasapartment]

Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies (Nutcracker), 1978. Arthur Elgort. Pigment Print.

[deviika]

—Kim Addonizio

[peaceinthestorm]

Hunt Slonem (American, b. 1951) ~ Sunflowers and Doves, 2008

[Source: Doyle Auctions]

[petaltexturedskies]

Life is boring, except for flowers, sunshine, your perfect legs. A glass of cold water when you are really thirsty. The way bodies fit together. Fresh and young and sweet. Coffee in the morning. These are just moments. I struggle with the in-betweens. I just want to never stop loving like there is nothing else to do, because what else is there to do?

Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and Song of Despair

[coolled]

[lou-smiler]

“Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words and everything in the world understands it. Perhaps there is a soul hidden in everything and it can always speak, without even making a sound, to another soul.”

— Frances Hodgson Burnett, from A Little Princess (Warne, 1905)

[kisxmesoft]

[lifemaniac91]

[littledreamsnothingmore]

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.

Sylvia Plath