How sad must it be to be the moon.
To always be relented as the lone wolf,
Always knowing solace and isiolation:
A shining beacon for book keepers
And basement dwellers.
Always playing vigil to the rowdy youth
Or the melancholy poet on his stroll.
To know that all the work you “offer” is simply a refraction of someone else’s.
I don’t want to be the moon, anymore.
Everything that kills me makes me feel alive.
Everything that downs me makes me wanna fly.
One Republic(via tantumvocem)
adriennepitts: It’s going to be quite a while before I can share the DSLR photographs I took in Iceland with you, so for the meanwhile, here are some of my favourite Instagram shots taken during 5 days in this most magical of places. I cannot wait to return, and explore this treasure of a place even further… If you’d like to see more you can visit me @hellopoe on Instagram!
Artist Name: Dale Eklund
I’m too tired to wake up.
Six word poem,
The greatest poetic thing of them all
Is that everything makes me want to die
That, if you disappear in soul and spirit
For even the littlest while
I lose track of the star in my sky
The sun in my heart
The gem of my oceans
The core of my earth
The belt of my shorts
The laces of my shoes
The pencil to write all of these down.
Because you are beyond these
You are the sky, the sea, the black beyond, the dirt beneath
Because the greatest poetic thing of them all is you.
THE SOUNDS OF CAR HORNS
You just can’t beat a classic AWOOOGA though, can you.
No you cannot.
Did I ever tell u guys about this business card my mom had because let me tell you
Painting all those fishies today.