Hey Sally, thanks for the message yesterday. I was in such an awful mood this week and I think I just needed a friend to say, "it's alright, you always make it through!" We'll see if that's true. The week isn't over yet. :) I miss you a ton and I hope I get to see you soon. How's the beautiful summer in Vermont? It's still one of my favorite places on earth! XoXo
lovely, I miss you! VT is beautiful, but it misses your presence. Just remember, we are in this together. You were always right—there’s something that will always connect us, impossible to sever. So we will never be alone. My love goes out to you. <3
“Personally I like going places where I don’t speak the language, don’t know anybody, don’t know my way around and don’t have any delusions that I’m in control. Disoriented, even frightened, I feel alive, awake in ways I never am at home.”—Michael Mewshaw (via emotional-algebra)
“So, the whole idea, you see, is that everything’s falling apart, so don’t try and stop it. When you’re falling off a precipice, it doesn’t do you any good to hang onto a rock that’s falling with you. See? But everything is doing that. And so, again, this is another case of our completely wasting our energy in trying to prevent the world from falling apart. Don’t do it. And then you’ll be able to do something interesting with the free energy.”—Alan Watts (via cultureofresistance)
“out of the lie of no
rises a truth of yes
(only herself and who
making fools understand
(like wintry me)that not
all matterings of mind
equal one violet”—“[out of the lie of no]” by E. E. Cummings, in Selected Poems1923-1958, selected by Cummings himself from eleven books of poetry (via growing-orbits)
“It’s easy to rip an unsewn stitch
Or tear the thread of an untold tale—
The song of us two together.”—Unknown author, from “Wulf and Eadwacer”, in The Exeter Book, trans. Craig Williamson (via growing-orbits)
“It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I would shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.”—Billy Collins, from “On Turning Ten” (via growing-orbits)
“Deep down, all of us are probably aware that some kind of mystical evolution is our true task. Yet we suppress the notion with considerable force because to admit it is to admit that most of our political gyrations, religious dogmas, social ambitions, and financial ploys are not merely counter-productive but trivial.”—Tom Robbins, American writer (via torrid-wind)
we still feel the things we swore we’d forget. that’s the difference. It’s as if we can store ten million gallons of wine full of emotions. and we let it phase us… we let it morph us. we let it drown ourselves to sleep each night, thinking that it’s fucking natural. what’s so natural about wine stained tears?
“A doctor once told me I feel too much.
I said, “So does God
That’s why you can see the Grand Canyon from the moon.”
We are a telescope, a riverbed.
We are empty lockets melting into gold.
We are hearts breaking bread.
Fold me in the napkin poem,
Pull the tinsel from my hair from all the past I cannot let go.
My gills are adjusting to the air,
The story husk peeled from my bones;
My bones know the song of our tears,
Dripping from the faucet,
Ticking like a metronome.
I know there is better music,
Even in this cabin full of fever.”—Andrea Gibson, from “Jellyfish” (via growing-orbits)
Inside I’d say, don’t please. Grit my teeth. Bite the pillow. You pulled me to the place where everything went numb, hollow. I’d lose my voice. Grit my teeth. Bite the pillow. Inside I’d say, don’t please. High on the wall, I’d watch your shadow turn against me — shape of a storm. My own…