i'm a pixie.

i'm a paper doll. i'm a cartoon.

in the city, all her stars were windows.

"Go to sleep. Let darkness
lap at your sides. Give darkness an inch.
You aren’t alone. All of the continents used to be
one body. You aren’t alone. Go to sleep."

Albert Goldbarth, from “The Sciences Sing A Lullaby (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via nogreatillusion)


Barcelona, Spain

Barcelona, Spain

(Source: yarathearabizi, via baveuile)

foxmouth:

Landscapes, 2014 | by Anthony Samaniego
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foxmouth:

Landscapes, 2014 | by Anthony Samaniego
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foxmouth:

Landscapes, 2014 | by Anthony Samaniego
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foxmouth:

Landscapes, 2014 | by Anthony Samaniego
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foxmouth:

Landscapes, 2014 | by Anthony Samaniego
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foxmouth:

Landscapes, 2014 | by Anthony Samaniego
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foxmouth:

Landscapes, 2014 | by Anthony Samaniego
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foxmouth:

Landscapes, 2014 | by Anthony Samaniego
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foxmouth:

Landscapes, 2014 | by Anthony Samaniego

(via violaguy88)

jimcavill:

biggest plot twist

jimcavill:

biggest plot twist

(via violaguy88)

heylabodega:

I’ve learned recently in my day-to-day but especially professional life that apologizing for things that aren’t your fault doesn’t make people think “oh what an exceedingly polite woman she even apologizes for things she has no control over,” it makes people think they WERE your fault.

bringing it back to summer ‘07 with my goose-egg concealing head scarf. #iamaklutz

bringing it back to summer ‘07 with my goose-egg concealing head scarf. #iamaklutz

disgustinganimals:

someone didn’t follow the instructions on how to build a cat 
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disgustinganimals:

someone didn’t follow the instructions on how to build a cat 
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disgustinganimals:

someone didn’t follow the instructions on how to build a cat 

(Source: groupinou, via violaguy88)

i cried yesterday.

i cried from relief. from the deepest, heart-swelling relief in the knowledge that in two weeks’ time, i’d be free. free from uniforms, from shoes that pinch my pained feet, from broken washing machines, from people who don’t show up to work. from this damn city.

i cried from fear. from the prickliest fear that i will crash and burn in this role, that my voice won’t be able to make it through. that i FINALLY get a lead role where i get to sing such beautiful, virtuosic music, and i’ve been out of practice so long that my stamina won’t last.

i cried from panic. from the uncontrollable panic of being trapped underground and between stations for twenty minutes three times in one subway ride. the sickening feeling that you’ll have to shell out another $15 for a cab if you ever want to get home… that is, if you ever make it to the next station.

i cried from grief. from the aching grief that, for the first time, my grama won’t be here to see me in this show. i wish she could be there. she would have loved this piece, i would reckon far more than any that i’ve ever done. lord, how i miss her. 

but just let me cry. i’ll be fine. i promise.

#dancerproblems

i feel like a lot of grief experienced in my 20’s would have been saved had i known the difference between hard choreography and bad choreography.

clumsy.

current wounds i am waiting patiently to heal:

  • the annual spring blisters from inflicting upon my feet, which had been nestled away safely in the same four pairs of boots all winter, those oh-so-cute-and-oh-so-vicious ballet flats and sandals.

  • a stubbed pinky toe that developed, not a bruise, but a rather strange looking blood blister.

  • a mild case of athlete’s foot from zipping around the yoga studio all day barefoot, trying to keep the place afloat after my cleaner quit unexpectedly 90 minutes before his shift. (also… gross.)

  • a scab on each knee, one from slipping on rain-soaked flagstone during a catering shift, and the other from missing a step down into a train station and going to my knees. bonus: small scab on the front of my ankle also from the latter spill.

  • sebaceous cyst removal incision on my back, directly right of my thoracic spine.

  • very deep hangnail on the middle finger of my right hand due to overgrown cuticle followed by washing my hands too many times on that fateful sunday when i was keeping up the studio alone.

i’ve never felt more like a little kid, who can’t quite seem to get her underdeveloped motor skills to catch up to her play-hard attitude. 

naturalpalettes:

Yoshio Moriyama
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naturalpalettes:

Yoshio Moriyama
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hungrylikethewolfie:

suaine:

nointerrruption:

growing up sucks because you realize $1000 isn’t a lot of money

Growing up sucks because you realize $1000 is a fortune.

Growing up sucks because you realize both of these are true at the same time.

(Source: okaywork, via violaguy88)

"For what it’s worth: it’s never too late to be whoever you want to be. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you find you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over again."

F. Scott Fitzgerald (via nuclearharvest)

(via fuckyeahyoga)