Gentle fish snuggling with cool important good big human
Connor Pollard

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Gentle fish snuggling with cool important good big human
Connor Pollard
The story can resume. The one I had been planning on that evening walk. I can become again the man who once crossed the Surrey Park at dusk, in my best suit, swaggering on the promise of life. The man who, with the clarity of passion, made love to you in the library. The story can resume. I will return. Find you, love you, marry you, and live without shame.
I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.”
(via kiddiewampus)
Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there. It doesn’t matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that’s like you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime.
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 (via girlwithoutwings)
“My sister’s boyfriend, Fox, on his last day of high school. The sun was setting, and he and his friends were all playing around. I caught him in a moment of reflection.” By Petra Collins
what
There were no sex classes. No friendship classes. No classes on how to navigate a bureaucracy, build an organization, raise money, create a database, buy a house, love a child, spot a scam, talk someone out of suicide, or figure out what was important to me. Not knowing how to do these things is what messes people up in life, not whether they know algebra or can analyze literature.
William Upski Wimsatt (via truzi)
real shit
(via lxvehurts)
Raw diamond studs by LexLuxe
Crater lake at sunset. I feel spoiled out here.
click on it
If you want to learn what someone fears losing, watch what they photograph.
Unknown (via tehbeee)
You must remember, it isn’t about “All men are menaces to women,” it’s about “All women have been menaced by men.”
The best shit I’ll read all week (via emlestrange)
The best ever response to the ‘not all men!’ crusade. If it’s not about you, stop making it about you.
(via clementineford)
signe vilstrup for vogue india // rites of passage