parapraxisprimer
There are two ways of getting home; and one of them is to stay there. The other is to walk round the whole world till we come back to the same place.
G.K. Chesterton (via jphilipwilson)
999mermaids0nacid:

mermaidsforhipsters:

Les Liaisons Dangereuses - George Barbier

☯✞☽✌elements☯✞☽✌ (mA cHiLl BlOg)Of BeaUtiy ☯✞☽✌3arthflame0ceanwind☯✞☽✌

999mermaids0nacid:

mermaidsforhipsters:

Les Liaisons Dangereuses - George Barbier


☯✞☽✌elements☯✞☽✌ (mA cHiLl BlOg)Of BeaUtiy ☯✞☽✌3arthflame0ceanwind☯✞☽✌

Do you have stars
in your mouth?

she asks
and I laugh,
she’s never tasted
winter like I have,
midnights that linger
for days. Yes,
I tell her. Come see.

Will there be breath?
For a while, I whisper
and blow on her hands,
but you will sing
and the aurora lights
will walk across the ice.

She lets me
put my hands on her.
Will I die? her hair
like snow.
Yes. I tell her.
Every time.

Status Quo

I blew up and yelled at him about all the things he hasn’t finished. Now he’s hurt, and I don’t want him to be hurt. Once again, I’m 12, tiptoeing around and bottling up my disappointments to keep to myself. I can deal with being disappointed; I can’t deal with him being hurt. I should have just stayed shut up and continue to focus on the good. Some say that’s living with blinders on. I can’t disagree. It’s just the path of least resistance.

Would it make matters worse if I apologized for hurting him? I won’t apologize for being upset at his continuous lack of forethought. But I didn’t mean to lose my temper.

Why am I even apologizing? I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I did. Just like he didn’t mean to piss me off. But he did.

And there’s a ghost in me that wants to say I’m sorry. Doesn’t mean I’m sorry.
As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.
Henry David Thoreau (via mollyirwin)
And as the snake is drowned and as I look in her eyes, my fear begins to fade, recalling all of those times. I could have cried then. I should have cried then. And as the walls come down and as I look in your eyes, my fear begins to fade, recalling all of the times I have died and will die. It’s alright. I don’t mind.

I don’t mind. I don’t mind.

undertheplanetarium:

:::Make a Wish::: by ~designtu
I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.
Salvador Plascencia  (via gildings)
I looked out the window for other passengers in love with their drivers, but we were well disguised, we pretended boredom and prayed for traffic.
Miranda July, ‘Something That Needs Nothing’ (via thefantasticmrsfox)

fer1972:

JUNE900310

1. Rising

2. Trap

Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never saw before
Say “please” before you open the latch,
go through,
walk down the path.
A red metal imp hangs from the
green painted front door,
as a knocker ,
do not touch it; it will bite your fingers.
Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat nothing.
However,
if any creature tells you that it hungers,
feed it.
If it tells you that it is dirty,
clean it.
If it cries to you that it hurts,
if you can,
ease its pain

From the back garden you will be able to see the wild wood.
The deep well you walk past leads down to Winter’s realm;
there is another land at the bottom of it.
If you turn around here,
you can walk back, safely;
you will lose no face. I will think no less of you.

Once through the garden you will be in the wood.
The trees are old. Eyes peer from the undergrowth.
Beneath a twisted oak sits and old woman.
She may ask for something;
give it to her. She
will point the way to the castle. Inside it
are three princesses.
Do not trust the youngest. Walk on.
In the clearing beyond the castle the
the twelve months sit about a fire,
warming their feet, exchanging tales.
They may do favors for you, if you are polite.
You may pick strawberries in December’s frost.

Trust the wolves but do not tell them
where you are going.
The river can be crossed by the ferry.
The ferryman will take you
(The answer to his question is this:
If he hands the oar to his passenger, he
will be free to leave the boat.
Only tell him this from a safe distance.)

If an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe.
Remember: that giants sleep too soundly; that
witches are often betrayed by their appetites;
dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always;
hearts can be well-hidden,
and you betray them with your tongue.

Do not be jealous of you sister:
know that diamonds and roses
are as uncomfortable when they tumble
from one’s lips as toads and frogs:
colder, too and sharper, and they cut.

Remember your name.
Do not lose hope - what you seek will be found.
Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have
helped to help you in their turn.
Trust dreams.
Trust your heart, and trust your story.

When you come back, return the way you came.
Favors will be returned, debts be repaid.
Do not forget your manners.
Do not look back.
Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall)
Ride the silver fish (you will not drown)
Ride the gray wolf (hold tightly to his fur).

There is a worm at the heart of the tower;
that is why it will not stand.

When you reach the little house, the
place your journey started,
you will recognize is, although it will seem
much smaller than you remember.
Walk up the path, and through the garden
gate you never saw before but once.
And then go home. Or make a home.

Or rest.

Instructions by Neil Gaiman (via emma-in-storyland)

grace read this

(via vanswearingen)

oh my god

(via nostalgia-and-then-some)
jumpinafterme:

Nothing exists 


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jumpinafterme:

Nothing exists 

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