Reina
'You can call me rain for all I seem to do is always fall for you.'

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spankjonze:

me flirting: do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials? 

(via eft)

I keep wondering, how many people do you need to be, before you can become yourself.
Iain S. Thomas (via lacynical)

(via thoughtsonasunday)

joegreer:

A moment worth discovering.

(via bodywarmth)

ex0skeletal:

Pro Tip: Instead of having feelings, try being dead inside. Everything is still horrible but you will not care at all.

(via classylassycassy)

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.

We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.

Sir Francis Drake - 1577  (via withonefootinafairytale)

(via classylassycassy)

This is my skin. It keeps out the rain and words I’d rather not hear like ‘I’m tired’ or ‘I’m fine’ or ‘We need to talk.’

This is my skin and it’s thick. This is not your skin. Yet you are still under it.
Iain S. Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via petrichour)

(via eft)

When I think about identity I think about aesthetic and taste. At some point in a writer’s young life she reads something that resembles a waterfall. She says, I want to do that. Or, if she’s already been doing it, she says, I am not alone; I have permission. And that’s fine and good. She walks the trail. Eventually she meets someone who insists, That’s not a waterfall.

When I was in college all I really wanted to read was Charles Bukowski and John Fante, plus some beat poetry, along with certain plays by Sam Shepard. I’d learned at an early age to be dismissive of other people. I was a history major and when, in my junior year, I started meeting creative writing majors they looked at what I was looking at, shook their heads dismissively, and said, That’s not a waterfall. So I looked at what they were looking at, Which was first and foremost Raymond Carver (I went to the University of Illinois from 1990 to 1994). I laughed at them congregating in front of the English building and said, That’s not a waterfall, that’s not even a puddle. That’s a pile of shit.

Six or seven years later I only wanted to read Raymond Carver. It turns out there was no waterfall. The moral of this story is don’t pay attention to anyone that laughs at your taste. Even if you listen to Nickleback.

Stephen Elliott, The Daily Rumpus, 4/5/14 (via thatkindofwoman)

(via eft)

sosa-parks:

As a college student you’re either struggling academically, financially, or emotionally. Or all three.

(via -wewereinfinite)

We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.(Anaïs Nin)

(via ephemerally-permanent)

humansofnewyork:

"I’m having trouble dealing with society.""What aspect of society?""The whole thing."

humansofnewyork:

"I’m having trouble dealing with society."
"What aspect of society?"
"The whole thing."

(via eft)