[del-i-kit] adj of intricate design
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Civil Twilight

—Quiet In My Town

sirbombalot:

Civil Twilight - "Quiet In My Town"

(Source: R2--D2, via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. I think that what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances with our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive.
elenamorelli:

{ the tiny bridge to the forest }

elenamorelli:

{ the tiny bridge to the forest }

I mean, I hope you’re happy,
But the sky is still the sky without you,
And I’m not surprised by that anymore.

Caitlyn Siehl, from This is Not a Love Poem (via alonesomes)

(Source: pukesplatter, via nakedy)

Let’s hold hands. You can rub the back of my thumb with yours and I can feel all the lines of your palm press gently into mine and I can find all the amazing shapes our hands make, even when they are so very close together. Let’s hold hands and talk about my habits and what songs we like to do at karaoke and how there are specific fictional robots that are way better than others.

Let’s hold hands and not let go until you decide to kiss me, until I decide to let you try.

Let’s kiss. You can pull my mouth to yours, press your body against mine, push your hand up into my hair. You can trace the edge of my teeth with your tongue, learn the shape of my lips by the way they move against yours, hold me by the nape of the neck with one hand, just tight enough to keep me from pulling away, but just loose enough to let me know that I can, if I wan’t.

Life is too short to spend it wondering if your life will explode into a million pieces if they ever touch you.

I’d rather be broken apart by the truth than spend my life always wondering—always wondering what it felt like to be touched by someone who meant it, by someone who wanted it just as bad as I did, by someone who didn’t want to spend their life wondering either.

Doesn’t it scare you that you’ve wasted more than half of your life hating yourself? It should.

Michelle K., What Keeps Me Up at Night #102.  (via elauxe)

(via lonelyscribbles)

themoonphase:

bonsaibones:

I’m in love with this gif. Everything about it. The rain drizzling. The candle flickering. The colors. I love it.

favorite

themoonphase:

bonsaibones:

I’m in love with this gif. Everything about it. The rain drizzling. The candle flickering. The colors. I love it.

favorite

(via castyrdemonsaside)

City And Colour

—Sleeping Sickness

momentumous:

Madness fills my heart and soul as if the great divide/ Could swallow me whole, oh how I’m breaking down 

shannonmiller:

Exploring Switzerland. Boat rides in Luzern. 

shannonmiller:

Exploring Switzerland. Boat rides in Luzern. 

(via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!

There are a hundred places where I fear
To go,—so with his memory they brim!
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, ‘There is no memory of him here!’
And so stand stricken, so remembering him!

— Edna St. Vincent Millay (via observando)