“Print will never die. There’s no substitute for the feel of an actual book. I adore physically turning pages, and being able to underline passages and not worrying about dropping them in the bath or running out of power. I also find print books objects of beauty.”— J.K. Rowling, Words with JAM magazine (via magicworks)
Sorry I couldn’t be there, I was tied to a rocking chair. I was beat down to a pulp rocking back and forth somewhere. If you knew, if you saw, you’d have said it was the final straw; that my life was bound and tethered on a porch by the shore
But there is no no no no easy way to tell them so, the things you know. And run run run run when they say they think they know exactly so.
It’s not right, it’s not right. Am I the only one who sees us fight? What are we? Who are they? Who says those bastards don’t deserve to pay? Well it’s the numbers, it’s the numbers, we don’t stand a chance. So long as they’re around, you’re just another song and dance. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. Still I’m the only one who seems to care.
It’s funny being funny, makes you feel like up and running. When your past lingers like rain clouds, casting shadows below. I could live with so many burdens; I take all your hope and yearning. But there’s nowhere, hide and take me from their petty little woes.
I used to glow glow glow glow, once I had a love to show, a love they know. They’re slow slow slow slow, so slow that they never know where I go.
I know that it’s always something. I’m just working with what I’ve been given. It’s not my fault I’m happy. Don’t call me crazy, I’m happy.
I remember when I thought people in their 20’s were adults. Now all of my friends are in their 20’s and everybody is just kind of fumbling around bumping into each other, trying to figure out where the free food is
“I’m in love with people’s hands and the way they clench their fists and the way their fingertips lightly press down onto piano keys or thighs. Calloused fingers or dainty fingers. Hands writing poems or memos or parking tickets. Hands writing futures. To me, every crease on the palm is a love line.”—Mesogeios (via violentwavesofemotion)
I just realized that for the people I’ve been following for the past two years I’ve seen you change or grow up like Ive seen your posts about graduating high school, entering college, moving out of your parents etc. like damn, live blog your wedding and I’ll make sure to wear my best tux and reblog that wedding post you’re gonna make
“When you know who you are, you don’t look to the world to tell you. Similarly, you don’t fear other people since they cannot take anything from you. Your awareness of yourself as you really are is your liberation.”—The Lazy Yogi (via 90sgrunge)
“Woman of disobedience, without certainty, woman of acquiescence,
woman of hubbub and shock,
woman of veins filled with forests and swamp, naked woman lost to her thighs
listening to the dead, to graves, to dens,
listening with pious ears,
in love with your yellow corpses, your victims
feeding on mud and tears.”—Adonis (via talkativolive)