(mara)

[blind pilot] [vampire weekend]

[the 1975] [TREVOR HALL]

i absolutely love music. and lyrics; words in general are just lovely.

sista • music • quiet place • ask

billy-forsetti:

why is it that when dylan sprouse and calum hood had nudes leaked everyone praised how well they handled it and attacked those who leaked them, but when over 50 female celebrities have nudes leaked, the hacker responsible is called a ‘hero’ and the victims are called ‘sluts’ and ‘whores’

oh wait

i know why

(via dried-basil)


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lars134:

Frank Capra, Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed on the set of “It’s a Wonderful Life” 

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Ben interrupted by a bird chirping 

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coltre:

Took this picture in beautiful Rome last night. This sky makes me think of us. The stars are so far from me and so are you. I hope one day I will hold your hands again. I miss you.

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astrodidact:


Only a sheet of ice protects you from falling 1000 feet down this Abyss
Photographer Aaron Huey, who is on assignment for National Geographic, recently shared a picture of a frighteningly deep hole on the Lower Ruth Glacier. The only thing stopping people from plummeting down the 1000 feet drop into the ground is a sheet of ice. One crack, though.
Huey wrote:
Staring down what could be a 1,000ft deep worm hole through the blue ice of the Lower #RuthGlacier. I was never afraid of the ones full of water, they’d just be cold, but some had no water and it was easy to imagine a long slide to an icy death. #yikes (on assignment for @natgeo in #DenaliNationalPark)
http://sploid.gizmodo.com/only-a-sheet-of-ice-protects-you-from-falling-a-1000-fe-1614438185/all

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lawrenceleemagnuson:

Claude Monet  Wisteria (c.1925) oil on canvas 153.6 x 203.5 cm  Gemeentemuseum Den Haag, The Hague, Netherlands

finestintheshop:

i love it when people misspell bawling and say that they’re “balling their eyes out” like ball so hard my motherfuckin eyes came out

(via theabominablepalecunt)


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oix:

Red Lake by .monodrift on Flickr.

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An Oxford student flipping through a book on sale. England, 1950
And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth,
‘You owe me.’
Look what happens with love like that.
It lights up the sky.
by Hafiz (via
thingsandschemes)

wethinkwedream:

Trevor Hall | Walk Quietly

You must love in such a way that the person you love feels free.
by Thich Nhat Hanh (via
onlinecounsellingcollege)

(via lostbutyoucanfollow)


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dawnawakened:

Guy Wiggins - Lower Fifth Avenue at Night

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callumfritsch:

Matt Corby @Brisbane Convention Centre, Credit-Joseph Willis

holytaxaccntnt:

The first time I saw her…
Everything in my head went quiet.
All the tics, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared.
When you have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments.
Even in bed, I’m thinking:
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes.
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes.
But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips..
Or the eyelash on her cheek—
the eyelash on her cheek—
the eyelash on her cheek.
I knew I had to talk to her.
I asked her out six times in thirty seconds.
She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going.
On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or fucking talking to her…
But she loved it.
She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times if it was Wednesday.
She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk.
When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely locked the door eighteen times.
I’d always watch her mouth when she talked—
when she talked—
when she talked—
when she talked
when she talked;
when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges.
At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off.
She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her.
Some mornings I’d start kissing her goodbye but she’d just leave cause I was
just making her late for work…
When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking…
When she said she loved me her mouth was a straight line.
She told me that I was taking up too much of her time.
Last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place.
She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but…
How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touched her?
Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t.
I can’t – I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her.
Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin.
I see myself crushed by an endless succession of cars…
And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on.
I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel..
How she turns shower knobs like she’s opening a safe.
How she blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out…
Now, I just think about who else is kissing her.
I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once — he doesn’t care if it’s perfect!
I want her back so bad…
I leave the door unlocked.
I leave the lights on.

'OCD', Neil Hilborn
Rustbelt Regional Poetry Slam 2013