#deepday

[narbenhexe]

[rocketvodka]

We don’t always get jealous, but when we do it’s over deep pow @wheres_claire_now ・・・ 1 Claire deep out here in Tahoe! I have never seen a storm deliver quite like this one. Today felt like a dream. #powderroom #backcountry #deepday #adventurewithclaire #neverstopexploring #bewild #sisterhoodofshred #alwaysaprès #aprèsski #skiing #snowboarding #peakmoments #vodkafromapples #rocketvodka https://www.instagram.com/p/Bto8lQ8ASjU/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ky2feyhcq8y7

[waytotheendoftherainbow]

Photo by @waytotheendoftherainbow #Annika’sPhoto

[w-end-1]

#chillout #childrenphoto #deepday #creativecommons #royaltyfree #lizenzfrei (hier: Peniche, Portugal)

[heavenlychampagne]

My quote

i made people cry but if it is not art see feelings running over their faces i do not know what is

[fight-the-fear-love]

Late night writing

From the start you were a free spirit, just wanting and waiting to be set loose from your own emotions. We were young but you were so much a part of my life than I realized. Even though growing up we weren’t as close and rarely talked or played at recess, I still remember our first real time together as if it was yesterday. We were 7 or 8, and you invited me over to your house, probably forcefully from your parents to get to know more kids although the size of our class was small enough to know everyone’s extended families. I don’t remember much of the day we spent besides riding bikes through the neighborhood my mother grew up in. I still remember where we slept that night. Your younger sister had one of those small plastic houses you played in when you were a kid, a lot younger than what we were. Never caring where I slept at friends’ houses, when you requested to sleep in there, the small space and lack of leg room didn’t bother me. Both on our backs you started talking about things 8 year olds shouldn’t be thinking about. You talked about how beautiful the world was and how it felt to walk around the grass at night feeling the dew between your toes. You talked about how there’s a ghost who roams through your halls and sometimes drops things but you were never scared of its presence. You then talked about how you could see your guardian angel and how she watched over you every night to make sure you slept alright. You said you could see mine. Her name was Christine. The same name of my closest grandmother, who has just recently been welcomed into the golden gates of heaven. Or my middle name in which I didn’t think you knew of at that time. Whether you made it up on the spot or not I’ll never know. Whenever I reimagine that night I can see stars. As if the ceiling of that tiny plastic house we were both looking at was a sky full of stars, like we were laying on the top of a mountain and only the stars knew of our existence. Slowly you rested your head on my arm and fell asleep. I didn’t sleep that night. I didn’t want to sleep that night.