Can you show me how to fall in love?


Kelsey. 19. Poet. Free writer. Sociologist. Anthropologist.


Theme by Go-Crazy.

what-mom:

*googles “how to apply for a boyfriend”*

(Source: what-mom, via sniffing)

kushandwizdom:

More good vibes here

crawltowardsthemoon:

"millions of flower petals erupt from a volcano, covering an entire village"

how on earth

(Source: ghostparties, via ihateallofyou666)

naturepunk:

Jude, getting his Hellhound on. 
hotcheetoprincess:

this is so ugly
Stories never really end…even if the books like to pretend they do. Stories always go on. They don’t end on the last page, any more than they begin on the first page. Cornelia Funke, Inkspell (via kushandwizdom)
kushandwizdom:

More good vibes here
A mistake repeated more than once is a decision. Paulo Coelho  (via ihateallofyou666)

(via ihateallofyou666)

When my husband [Carl Sagan] died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me — it still sometimes happens — and ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again.

Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don’t ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous — not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance… That pure chance could be so generous and so kind… That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time… That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful.

The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.

Ann Druyan (via whats-out-there)

(via langleav)

window-licking:

when your armpit just won’t shut up

image

(via tyleroakley)