Пару строчек моей вселенной.

And there is no end

[yanblch]

downshifting.

дауншифтинг - это то, к чему я стремлюсь.

это slow living, замедление, сосредоточенность на моменте и жизнь ради себя.

это разумность: в деньгах, в еде, в темпе жизни.

я поняла, что именно это мне сейчас нужно, и я хочу этого достичь.

состояния гармонии, когда мне всего достаточно, и можно просто наслаждаться моментом.

в некоторые моменты я ощущаю, как мне нравится жить простой жизнью:

просыпаться утром,

смотреть на чистый белый снег,

слушать стук часов,

готовить простой завтрак,

есть легкую и вкусную еду,

разговаривать на простые темы, без чего-то возвышенного,

ступать на снег, который скрипит под ногами,

читать книгу в тишине,

думать о разном, смотря в потолок.

и нет никакой спешки: свободный график работы, где главное - сделать дело, а не отсидеть время.

я просто хочу сделать свою жизнь проще и счастливее.

[madam-vavavoom]

Броситься в жизнь с головой, в открытые моря с раскрытыми объятиями

Прихватив полароид, влюбить в себя парня на мотоцикле

Мчаться на скорости вперёд

Оставив после себя лишь полароидные снимки на память,

больше никогда не встретиться

[airtton88]

если завтра ты наберёшь мой номер и не захочешь никого другого я снова прыгну в твой тихий омут, здравствуйте черти, я дома.

[anadesired]

-Ты правда хочешь, чтобы мы были все же на «ты»? -Я хочу, чтобы мы были же-на-ты.

Фредерик Бегбедер (via anadesired)

[madlinaah]

[madlinaah]

[mehreenkasana]

What’s the kindest thing you almost did? Is your fear of insomnia stronger than your fear of what awoke you? Are bonsai cruel? Do you love what you love, or just the feeling? Your earliest memories: do you look though your young eyes, or look at your young self? Which feels worse: to know that there are people who do more with less talent, or that there are people with more talent? Do you walk on moving walkways?

Should it make any difference that you knew it was wrong as you were doing it? Would you trade actual intelligence for the perception of being smarter? Why does it bother you when someone at the next table is having a conversation on a cell phone? How many years of your life would you trade for the greatest month of your life? What would you tell your father, if it were possible? Which is changing faster, your body, or your mind? Is it cruel to tell an old person his prognosis?

Are you in any way angry at your phone? When you pass a storefront, do you look at what’s inside, look at your reflection, or neither? Is there anything you would die for if no one could ever know you died for it? If you could be assured that money wouldn’t make you any small bit happier, would you still want more money? What has been irrevocably spoiled for you?

If your deepest secret became public, would you be forgiven? Is your best friend your kindest friend? Is it any way cruel to give a dog a name? Is there anything you feel a need to confess? You know it’s a “murder of crows” and a “wake of buzzards” but it’s a what of ravens, again? What is it about death that you’re afraid of? How does it make you feel to know that it’s an “unkindness of ravens”?“

 Jonathan Safran Foer, Two-Minute Personality Test

[mangoestho-deactivated20161001]

um why does these questions got me in my chest.

[chuwenjie]

A compilation of stuff I know about drawing Asian faces and Asian culture! I feel like many “How-To-Draw” tutorials often default to European faces and are not really helpful when drawing people of other races. So I thought I’d put this together in case anyone is interested! Feel free to share this guide and shoot me questions if you have any! I’m by no means an expert, I just know a few things from drawing experience and from my own cultural background. 

[lifeinpoetry]

(I swear, you taste like a poem.)

Sean Glatch, from “Caffeine, Pt. 1,″ 4:41 (via 7-weeks)

[ninasdrafts]

I became so good at shutting out the pain that I don’t expect the blow when it comes, knocking the air from my chest and me off my feet. It’s weird and ironic how your absence somehow feels like a constant presence, not like a missing limb or a hole in my heart but like a dark cloud hovering over me, reminding me that you’re gone every time it breaks apart and douses me in ice cold raindrops. When I reach for you, my fingers only close around air and somehow it gets worse every time I understand anew that you won’t come back, not now, not tomorrow, not in a week, not next Christmas. Not ever. And it hurts. It hurts so goddamn much, like nothing else I have experienced in my life and I allow myself to grieve, I allow myself to cry, I allow myself to scream and doubt the world and life and death and love. There’s something I keep telling myself. I’ll be okay I’ll be okay I’ll be okay. But right now I need ten minutes for myself. Ten minutes to wipe away the tears and remember you, remember the sunshine that spilled from your laughter, the galaxies that grew in your mind and the flowers that bloomed beneath your touch. Has it been four days or four years since you left? I moved on, I swear I did, but that doesn’t mean that it can’t be bad on some days. It doesn’t mean I can’t miss you. Because I do. Every single day.

Wish you were here n.j. (via ninasdrafts)

[master-of-pen-and-sword]

The truth

“You can’t beat me, I’m not cocky, it’s true” I told the guy I was joking with as I rinsed off the car I was cleaning “Look out, this high school wrestler takes his ‘career’ seriously” some random guy chimed in, we weren’t even talking to him, but he felt the need to join our conversation, seeing the opportunity I took it. I put my pressure washer in it’s place, and walked over to his car “Have you ever wanted something so bad you bled for it? Have you ever been so determined to win that you pretended you weren’t injured to be allowed to compete?” This guy looked speechless, and I didn’t stop there “I’ve placed my joints back in socket, taped injuries that would’ve made you cry, and I’ve fought like hell to be what I am, now golf foxtrot yankee, you fucking dick” I finished, walking away.

[ninasdrafts]

“He always said he cared.” “Did he back up his words with actions?”

13 words The question that opened my eyes n.j. (via ninasdrafts)

[ninasdrafts]

Tell me about something that makes your skin crawl, that makes you shiver and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Tell me about something that broke you, that completely changed who you are, that made your walls crumble down. Tell me what you did to fix your heart, to knit your bones back together, to heal your wounds and bruises. Tell me about your favourite colour, book, film, food, anything. Tell me about your last heartbreak, the last time you fell in love, the last time you felt like you couldn’t move on. Tell me something about loss, about grief, about the last time you cried so bad you could hardly breathe. Tell me. Just tell me. I’m all ears. I want you and I want all of you, the good times and the bad times and all the times inbetween.

What makes you who you are? I’m dying to know n.j. (via ninasdrafts)

[fiftywordsdaily-deactivated2017]

In Harm’s Way

Some things are too big, too painful, for words to fit around them.  The words don’t even begin to stretch around the girth that needs to be grasped.  And the words are nothing like tall enough.  They’re just a symbol for something that can’t be said.  Or a clue perhaps.

[mustbemindfull]

Пусть на моей кремации будет диджей и играет мой плейлист.

КФ (via mustbemindfull)

Ну в моем случае все таки на похоронах. Наверное.

[madlinaah]

[madlinaah]