Miss Witch Bitch @effievisage - Tumblr Blog

I won't apologize, I'll be completely blunt 🖤💜

Jeff Hardy jumping off 20-foot ladders like a sexy threat, awakened something in me, my soul, and ... other places.

Call it taste, hun.

‘‘La única forma de vivir es descubrir lo que te gusta y tratar de hacerlo. Descubrí desde muy chico que me gustaba la música y mi familia fue bastante piola: me dejó elegir. Vivo intensamente y hago lo que quiero. Si yo hubiera seguido los consejos de mucha gente acerca de la música, no hubiera hecho nada. Hubiera sido un reprimido y hubiera pensado en tener una posición lo antes posible. Por suerte, mi cabeza me dio para saber lo que quería. No concibo la vida inhibida. Me gusta explotar. Quiero llegar a viejo gastado’’ —Federico Moura (1984)

#federico moura

apoemaday

Love After Love

by Derek Walcott

The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror and each will smile at the other’s welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.

apoemaday

Funeral Blues (Stop All the Clocks)

by W.H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good.

thepersonalwords

“I think everything in life is art. What you do. How you dress. The way you love someone, and how you talk. Your smile and your personality. What you believe in, and all your dreams. The way you drink your tea, How you decorate your home. Or party. Your grocery list. The food you make. How your writing looks. And the way you feel. Life is art.”

— Helena Bonham Carter

euesworld

"I would adore walking in the forest with you at night like fairies in the moonlight, with candles lit bright until the wicks drip to the forest floor as we explore unreached places.."

Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?? Nah, but I've danced with angels by candle light in the deep of night - eUë

tyjrose

I’m not a morning person, unless you wanna fuck

january-cinders

“My child is completely fine…”

“Dude, your child finds comfort in bands from the 60s, 70s, and 80s.”

metamorphesque

― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

[text ID: Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.]

owlmylove

maybe if you take a hot shower. cook something. eat a little soup. feel a little sunshine. make something with your hands—it doesn’t have to be big. maybe if you stretch your body and draw a silly little picture and get some rest, the world will feel like something your hands can still hold