(Source: allthebestcinematography, via yourpaldignan)
(Source: jkrasweb, via chantthebeautyofthegood)
When we stopped fucking in bed
but instead hunched over like the sick
on the side of the couch, the pool table,
the front seat of your Cadillac, no longer
the passionate lovemaking of the newly
obsessed attempting to crawl into each
other’s skin—more the way a cat will play
with a…
(Source: sierrademulder)
There really needs to be a show where it is just Anderson Cooper interviewing bigots and he makes that face for an entire hour.
and I would totally watch that show
(Source: eredar)
(Source: pizzaforpresident, via chantthebeautyofthegood)
blua:
What the city is missing: Thierry Cohen photographs cityscapes and then photographs deserts at night, combing the two to show us what our cities would look like with the lights off. The stars are not enhanced, they are actual photos from relative latitudes that would expose the same starry sky view if it weren’t for light pollution. Click on each photo to see which city it is.
ohmygod imagine?? this is really beautiful
(via goabroadd)
‘I feel like you haven’t been around much,’ I say.
Bon Iver looks happy, though. ‘I was in the tree house!’ he says, filling his rucksack with muffins and pulling me by the sleeve. We run across the meadow and down to the creek, where he has indeed built a platform with a roof, high above the grass. Inside, the groans and pops of the tree in the wind are alarming, but he has a nice rug and a ukulele and the walls are covered with maps, and the creek chuckles below, and since we have these muffins I could stay here forever.
filling his rucksack with muffins
(via chantthebeautyofthegood)
House-themed sets of Harry Potter over on Gilt. You can find them under Juniper Books.
ohhhhhhhh
"
My second grade teacher liked to ask us,
“How do you feel today, on a scale of one to ten?”
Ten always meant I’m super, thank you
and one was always not today, Mrs. MacAuley, not today.
But I never liked numbers, they would always
twist and rebel against my mind so I chose
to speak in colors instead.
January third - I am the color
of mint chocolate chip ice cream
but I’ve eaten all the chocolate chips.
I am calm.
February seventh - I am a bruise of
blues and violets today. I think it would
be best if I sat by the window.
These are unhappy colors.
April eleventh - I am turquoise, I am magenta,
I am every color in the rainbow.
April thirtieth - I am gray, I am silent.
May first - I am orange, the color of melting
creamsicles on a beach in July.
June twelfth - I am as yellow as the school bus
that will bring me home to summer. I am free.
Twelve years later, I still use colors.
The winter makes me feel cobalt blue, the ocean
turns me a seafoam green. Violets and purples
leave me uneasy and scarlet is a fever of fury.
Some nights I drown in shades of navy, denim,
and cornflower but other nights I meditate in forests of
harlequin and shamrock.
But you,
you leave me a blinding white followed by a soft yellow:
the color of sunlight after a period of darkness.
— Kelsey Danielle, “A Diary of Colors” (via pigmenting)
(via flytja)
