When the hangman of morrow comes to hang the sun in its daily execution say this with me:
Sarah, we are apples, our love is an arrow;
I am unbuttoning my shirt; painting a circle over my heart,
Please, just shoot straight.
- Anis Mojgani, “Milos” (via oofpoetry)
I sit before flowers hoping they will train me in the art of opening up. I stand on mountain tops believing that avalanches will teach me to let go. I know nothing, but I am here to learn.
- Shane Koyczan (via oofpoetry)

Physics says: go to sleep. Of course
you’re tired. Every atom in you
has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes
nonstop from mitosis to now.
Quit tapping your feet. They’ll dance
inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.
Geology says: it will be all right. Slow inch
by inch America is giving itself
to the ocean. 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.

Astronomy says: the sun will rise tomorrow,
Zoology says: on rainbow-fish and lithe gazelle,
Psychology says: but first it has to be night, so
Biology says: the body-clocks are stopped all over town
and
History says: here are the blankets, layer on layer, down and down.

- Albert Goldbarth, “The Sciences Sing a Lullaby” (via oofpoetry)
There’s just no accounting for happiness,
or the way it turns up like a prodigal
who comes back to the dust at your feet
having squandered a fortune far away. And how can you not forgive?
You make a feast in honor of what
was lost, and take from its place the finest
garment, which you saved for an occasion
you could not imagine, and you weep night and day
to know that you were not abandoned,
that happiness saved its most extreme form
for you alone.
- Jane Kenyon, from “Happiness” (via oofpoetry)
naturalpalettes:

photo by Elena Morelli

ostracizedpoodle:

I don’t need alcohol to make bad decisions

(via hotboyproblems)

mathsdebater:

princess-maddyy:

flower-girl:

hotcakesandflapjacks:

franki-e:

norockwithoutplastic:

konagrown:

ayearofdeepcreek:

Well, yes, always a reblog. One of celtfire's classic photos of Deep Creek hot springs back in spring 1970. 
Onceuponatime, 44 years ago!

(via )
(via )
As time goes on, you’ll understand. What lasts, lasts; what doesn’t, doesn’t. Time solves most things. And what time can’t solve, you have to solve yourself.
- Haruki Murakami, Dance, Dance, Dance (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

(via delusional-worlds)