Sometimes stars align, sometimes they collide.
Nav K (via navk)

Kaledo Art

Discoholic đȘ©
Jules of Nature
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Misplaced Lens Cap

pixel skylines

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation

Andulka
we're not kids anymore.
taylor price

tannertan36
ojovivo
Sade Olutola

â
No title available
will byers stan first human second
Not today Justin

Kiana Khansmith
$LAYYYTER
YOU ARE THE REASON

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@intermittentennui
Sometimes stars align, sometimes they collide.
Nav K (via navk)
8563 feet in the air. The climb was exhausting but this view was worth it. #colorado #whydidwecomeback (at Manitou Incline Hike)
I think I'm just going stay here. #coloradosprings (at Garden of the Gods Park)
We file into the subway, rushing to get inside. Actually, file isnât the right word, it is more like trample, with everyone trying to get into the cart as quickly as possible. The pushing, shoving are the only signs of awareness that there are people next to us.
People take their seats and just as quickly pull out their phones and slip away into their cyber bubbles. Those who do not take out their phones focus their gaze on the subway floor or the advertisements on the top of the walls. Basically, anywhere they could be sure not to make any awkward eye contact with another passenger.
They say that there are six degrees of separation between any two people. We are all somehow linked, but we here we sit, phones in our hands and headphones in our ears, not acknowledging and perhaps unaware of those around us.
The subway stops again and a man in camaflouge pants, carrying a violin gets on. He looks around the cart and slowly pulls the violin to his chin. He closed his eyes and starts playing. Itâs a sweet and lighthearted tune. It flows through headphones and draws heads away from phones, the subway floor and the advertisements.
A connection slowly builds in the room. He quickens his pace and the connection grows stronger. He gets engrossed in his music and becomes animated as he walks down the aisle. No longer in their cyber bubbles everyoneâs focus is on this man and his violin, as his music fills the air.
The train stops and the man gets off. Headphones go back on and attention is redirected. The connection is broken.
Make a habit of uncertainty, wrap yourself in it like a towel after having slipped through while dancing carelessly on ice. Youâll find a strange comfort there in the inability to foresee what comes next. Youâll warm up to the challenge, look forward to the beacon that is tomorrow, and the next, and the next. This is how we go by living. Cherishing that which we donât yet have as much as that which we have for certain. Because even that which we have can disappear or otherwise walk out on us tomorrow. Make a habit of being uncomfortable in any given situation. For if you are not able to readily adapt, you may join a category of people specifically created for such occasions: a memory.
Nav K (via navk)
Sometimes youâre 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. Youâre just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books youâre reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just donât feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but âMomâsâ probably wouldnât feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that youâll never be this young again but this is the first time youâve ever been this old. When you canât remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffeeâs done. Youâre going to breathe in and out. Youâre going to be fine in about five minutes.
Sylvia Townsend Warner, The Winter of the Air. (via wordsnquotes)
I am sea, you are sky, remembrance in every sigh
Azra Elle Phoenix (via phoenixpoetics)
The lights are always on in your eyes. I hope no one ever has the audacity to turn them off.
Nav K (via navk)
Learn from the earth from her calms and from her storms. When to be still, when not to be. How to be loved and ignored and continue being everything.
Nav K (via navk)
May your madness be wholesome and deliberate. May it engulf and inspire you in ways happenstance never could.
Sometimes you want things to change so badly, you canât even stand to be in the same room with the way things actually are.
Ali Benjamin, The Thing About Jellyfish (via qalbii)
Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.
Rabindranath Tagore (via drakontomalloi)
I am restless. I am athirst for faraway things. My soul goes out in longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance.
Rabindranath Tagore. (via sublimequotesilove)
Clouds come floating into my life from other days no longer to shed rain or usher storm but to give colour to my sunset sky.
Rabindranath Tagore (via quietlotus)
Let my doing nothing when I have nothing to do become untroubled in its depth of peace like the evening in the seashore when the water is silent.
Rabindranath Tagore (via quietlotus)