"Be like the flower that gives its fragrance to even the hand that crushes it.”
- Imam Ali (a)

"Be like the flower that gives its fragrance to even the hand that crushes it.”

- Imam Ali (a)

(via passionissnapping)

Album Art

reallyscarygoblins:

kingorb:

shisnojon:

im sorry im sorry i fucked up so bad by making this

play this at my funeral

SWERV

Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe. — Andrea Gibson, Bone Burying (via larmoyante)

(via iamyourhodor)

nunnery:

“I came upon twin fawns in the display case of a mom and pop toy and science store in kansas city, missouri. it took me two years to win the trust of the shop owner and save the money to buy them. a taxidermist spotted a dead deer by the side of the road. he stopped to properly dispose of the body and realized she was pregnant. he opened her and found near full-term twin fawns, he removed and preserved them. Deer rarely have twins and the taxidermist retained the uterine gesture of their bodies. i built them a vitrine with a light blue base. their prematurity exaggerates the delicacy of an incredibly sweet thing. the points of their hooves, the length of their lashes, the spots of their hides, nose to small nose in an ur-cartoonish realism … viewers’ eyes trick them into believing the fawns are breathing. the tragedy of beauty is its transience. The twins live forever in their own demise. they are sleeping beauties. they have been muses since i first saw them.We dress death in lilies and bronze the names of our dead sons on walls. we erect altars of toys and hold candlelight vigils to express hope. my twin fawns sleep endlessly on their baby blue block in my studio. the twins never opened their eyes yet their wondrous fatality evokes an acceptable alternative to death.”
-Peregrine Honig

nunnery:

“I came upon twin fawns in the display case of a mom and pop toy and science store in kansas city, missouri. it took me two years to win the trust of the shop owner and save the money to buy them. a taxidermist spotted a dead deer by the side of the road. he stopped to properly dispose of the body and realized she was pregnant. he opened her and found near full-term twin fawns, he removed and preserved them. 

Deer rarely have twins and the taxidermist retained the uterine gesture of their bodies. i built them a vitrine with a light blue base. their prematurity exaggerates the delicacy of an incredibly sweet thing. the points of their hooves, the length of their lashes, the spots of their hides, nose to small nose in an ur-cartoonish realism … viewers’ eyes trick them into believing the fawns are breathing. the tragedy of beauty is its transience. 

The twins live forever in their own demise. they are sleeping beauties. they have been muses since i first saw them.

We dress death in lilies and bronze the names of our dead sons on walls. we erect altars of toys and hold candlelight vigils to express hope. my twin fawns sleep endlessly on their baby blue block in my studio. the twins never opened their eyes yet their wondrous fatality evokes an acceptable alternative to death.”

-Peregrine Honig

(via innerika)

songs-about-leaving:


Andrew Jackson Jihad - Brave as a noun

songs-about-leaving:

Andrew Jackson Jihad - Brave as a noun

(via funkyxpunk)

(via aestroid)

And I drank up all my money,
Tasted kind of lonely
— Tove Lo - Habits (via e-stocado)

(via thisblogisamistake)

I hate distance. You meet the best people and they are always far away.

(via kushandwizdom)

ohnoifallinreverse

(via inkyourcanvas)

Awhe, Destiny.

(via ohnoifallinreverse)

(via ohnoifallinreverse)

When you are truly in love with someone nothing around you seems to matter…  But when happiness is plagued by distance you start to feel every mile etched into your backbone.  Golf ball sized goodbyes and tired “I love you’s” are burning through my throat. Tired eyes are drooping like old ‘window pains’ and as I try and fall asleep I hope that the moon sends her messages letting her know I am waiting for us to be HOME..c0ntain

When you are truly in love with someone nothing around you seems to matter…
But when happiness is plagued by distance you start to feel every mile etched into your backbone.
Golf ball sized goodbyes and tired “I love you’s” are burning through my throat. Tired eyes are drooping like old ‘window pains’ and as I try and fall asleep I hope that the moon sends her messages letting her know I am waiting for us to be HOME..
c0ntain

in the space between our bodies
there is a cup holder filled with pennies
a distance which can often take years to cross.
— Mira Gonzales, I Will Never Be Beautiful Enough to Make Us Beautiful Together (via quoted-books)