If, Then

hi it's cloud, I'm in college

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England is a cup of tea France, a wheel of ripened brie Greece, a short, squat olive tree America is a gun

Brazil is football on the sand Argentina, Maradona's hand Germany, an oompah band America is a gun

Holland is a wooden shoe Hungary, a goulash stew Australia, a kangaroo America is a gun

Japan is a thermal spring Scotland is a highland flight Oh, better to be anything Than America as a gun

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From blossoms comes this brown paper bag of peaches we bought from the boy at the bend in the road where we turned toward    signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands, from sweet fellowship in the bins, comes nectar at the roadside, succulent peaches we devour, dusty skin and all, comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into    the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

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new blog for new beginnings

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Me, I want to bloody kick this moronic bloody world in the bloody teeth over and over until it bloody understands that not hurting people is ten bloody thousand times more bloody important than being right

Jason (via quellthestorm)

bringing this one back because it feels particularly relevant

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The subtle ways colleges discriminate against poor students, explained with a cartoon

We stunt upward mobility and make college a finishing school for the affluent.

[folklifestyle]

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I’ll get out of California I’m tired of the weather I think I’ll get a lover I’ll fly ‘em out to Spain

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A photographer who took pictures with people she met on Tinder and pretended to love revealed a lot about true intimacy

The photos in Marie Hyld's series depict moments of intimacy that a couple may experience, from the sensual to the beautifully mundane.

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This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.

WW

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Songs of Innocence and of Experience - Wikipedia

from one of my favorite cheesy, feel good, stupid films.  

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2/19/18

what a wild thing to feel your heart beat so quickly and feel so alive so suddenly without trying or expecting to.  

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Opinion | Why You Will Marry the Wrong Person

Embrace a philosophy of pessimism. Every human will disappoint you, and you’ll do the same to them.

“We need to swap the Romantic view for a tragic (and at points comedic) awareness that every human will frustrate, anger, annoy, madden and disappoint us — and we will (without any malice) do the same to them.”

happy V. day loves <3 

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Be kind. Dig deep. Search for answers. Hold no agendas (we don't know anything) except an open mind and curiosity. Ask questions gently. Listen fairly. Talk face-to-face. Put away your phone and laptop. Use combustible media (easier to ignite ideas). Tell stories. Laugh freely. Refrain from shouting. Remember that everyone here matters (even you).

House Rules

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Isabella Mente

“I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with,  Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you.  Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through.  Tell me what the word home means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name,  Just by the way you desribe your bedroom when you were eight.  See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate, and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.  Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow?  And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to buid your snowman arms or would leave your snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree?  Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?  Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad even if it makes your lover mad?  Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away the pain?  I want you to tell me all of the ways you’ve been unkind.  Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.  See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living.  I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving, and if you love yourself enough to also recieve sometimes.”