Sometimes, sometimes,

It’s impossible to keep the madness within.

nervousxrex:

I love the angle of this photo. Usually you only see photos of what’s on stage or of an empty proscenium. Here is where you come in contact with both worlds. The brink between stage and life. It’s magical. 

nervousxrex:

I love the angle of this photo. Usually you only see photos of what’s on stage or of an empty proscenium. Here is where you come in contact with both worlds. The brink between stage and life. It’s magical. 

(Source: leaving-without-you, via comeandgoinwaves)

Home is in my hair, my lips, my arms, my thighs, my feet and my hands. I am my own home. And when I wake up crying in the morning, thinking of how lonely I am, I pinch my skin, tug at my hair, remind myself that I am alive. Remind myself to step outside and greet the morning. Remind myself that it’s all about forward motion. It’s all about change. It’s all about that elusive state.
Freedom.
Medicine, law, business— these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance— these are what we stay alive for.
━ Dead Poets Society
Be humble for you are made of earth.
Be noble for you are made of stars.
━ Serbian Proverb (via floatingmemories)

(Source: larmoyante, via floatingmemories)

Demons

Those feelings—

guilt, shame, disgust,

rise up

as I shove them

down my throat.

Trying to fill myself up,

only to have it emptied out.

parkmerced:


That’s one steep hill in SF. San Francisco, CA

parkmerced:

That’s one steep hill in SF. San Francisco, CA

(via aeliens)