nyctaeus:

Ted Lawson - Entropy Is A Myth

nyctaeus:

Ted Lawson - Entropy Is A Myth

(via ficksing)


motivatedowl:

The misty forest Sequoia Bayview Trail Joaquin Miller Park, Oakland CA

motivatedowl:

The misty forest Sequoia Bayview Trail Joaquin Miller Park, Oakland CA

(via celesticos)


I’ve been feeling so strange lately. Have you ever had a weird feeling where your stomach feels like it’s in knots and you can’t breathe and everything that you’re thinking about is driving you mad? That’s how my whole day has been. I don’t know what’s up but I hope that it stops soon.


exitinsistexist:

"Death Looking into the Window of One Dying", ca.1900, Jaroslav Panuška

exitinsistexist:

"Death Looking into the Window of One Dying", ca.1900, Jaroslav Panuška

(via thegalaxitrials)


pkae:

me too

(via horrorqueens)


officialunitedstates:

they said it was dangerous and stupid but look at me now.  3 years after eating nothing but plant seeds I get 95% of my energy from the sun plus my branch arms are useful in duels

(via beatleslover101)


I suppose in the end it’s almost too easy to look back and say what you should have done, how you might have changed things. What’s harder - what’s much, much harder - is to accept what you actually did do.
Peter Hook, Unknown Pleasures: Inside Joy Division (via larmoyante)

(via sadtampon)


Pretense Sestina

Obscured by weighted velvet curtains,
meager light intrudes through
the smallest nooks and crevices
between the stitching of thread.
Gaping eyelids expose naked,
bare slumberous eyes.

They are the kind of eyes
that palisade, they curtain
the passion of life; underneath dwell thoughts of living naked
and free. Few can see the boundaries through.
Fractions shine between gaps in thread;
ardor travels between crevices.

As night approaches, sensation breaks through crevices.
They swell as emotion seeps through eyes,
withering the barriers and threads.
Crippled are the damp, heavy curtains!
They plummet as glowing moon thieves creep through
to collect burnished beads, transparent and naked.

Tired eyes rest upon a twig nest on a naked
tree. The occupants are visible through crevices.
Two brightly colored cardinals transfer sounds through
high-pitched cheeps and chirps. Are they unhappy? Their eyes
keep it a secret. Perhaps they always wear a curtain
for protection from enemies with twigs and thread.

Each dawn, these eyes wear thinner thread
through which any gazer could see raw and naked
life. Each dawn, they wear a new, less burdened curtain
of soft, pastel color with stretched crevices.
Contemplating transfers from mind to eyes.
Vulnerability surfaces through.

And so the days and nights went by. Through
all of the hours, more and more thread
mitigated as though it were snake skin. Such eyes
they had become! Such fervidness! New, thicker, and naked
skin had developed. No more crevices,
existed; no more barriers or curtains.

Life is like a nest; it can be naked
of camouflage and bear no guarding crevices,
or it can be a fortress with impassible curtains.


be-lame:

loftcultural:

Henri Matisse - Goldfish (1911)

i just love matisse

be-lame:

loftcultural:

Henri Matisse - Goldfish (1911)

i just love matisse


pageruth:

Emily and I at neon carnival by toasty cakes ❤️

pageruth:

Emily and I at neon carnival by toasty cakes ❤️


Creation which cannot express itself becomes madness.
Anaïs Nin (via graceandcompany)

(via hellskittencouture)


littlebirchtree:

driving up to the cottage after a huge rainfall

(via alpineflowers)



vvni:

Nast’a by Stanislav Liepa

vvni:

Nast’a by Stanislav Liepa

(via indica-marijuana)


Twiggy c. 1966

(via vintagegal)