Welcome to my cranium.

fuckyeahtraditionaltattoos: James McKenna - Fremantle,...

Mon, 20 May 2013 23:39:23 -0400

James McKenna - Fremantle, Australia

"I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them,..."

Mon, 20 May 2013 13:30:16 -0400

““I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds.””

- Andrea Gibson (via alagarconnemeuf)

"it’s hard to watch the game we make of love, like everyone’s playing checkers with their..."

Sun, 19 May 2013 20:07:45 -0400

“it’s hard to watch
the game we make of love,
like everyone’s playing checkers
with their scars,
saying checkmate
whenever they get out
without a broken heart.

Just to be clear
I don’t want to get out
without a broken heart.
I intend to leave this life
so shattered
there’s gonna have to be
a thousand separate heavens
for all of my separate parts
And none of those parts are going to be wearing the romance from the overpriced vintage rack
That is to say I am not going to get a single speed bike if I can’t make it up the hill
I know exactly how many gears I’m going to need to love you well
And none of them look hip at the hot coffee shop
They all have God saying “good job you’re finally not full of bullshit”
You finally met someone who’s going to flatten your knee caps into skipping stones”

- Royal Heart, Andrea Gibson (via micaceous)

rnl365: Hippocampus Aurélien Police

Sun, 19 May 2013 19:35:43 -0400

rnl365:

Hippocampus

Aurélien Police

Love Language

Fri, 17 May 2013 11:51:33 -0400

bryanastarr:

“I would love to say
that you
make me
weak in the knees
but
to be quite upfront
and completely
truthful
you
make my body
forget
it has knees
at all.”—Derrick Brown

ticopolotatuado: Eli Falconette sweeeeetttt wuuuuuu

Tue, 14 May 2013 18:32:14 -0400

ticopolotatuado:

Eli Falconette

sweeeeetttt

wuuuuuu

mikecheck09: Margot and the Nuclear So & So’s -...

Tue, 14 May 2013 18:25:01 -0400

mikecheck09:

Margot and the Nuclear So & So’s - “Broadripple is Burning”

Love.

Photo

Tue, 14 May 2013 01:04:01 -0400

"Marry your best friend. I do not say that lightly. Really, truly find the strongest, happiest..."

Tue, 14 May 2013 00:20:34 -0400

““Marry your best friend. I do not say that lightly. Really, truly find the strongest, happiest friendship in the person you fall in love with. Someone who speaks highly of you. Someone you can laugh with. The kind of laughs that make your belly ache, and your nose snort. The embarrassing, earnest, healing kind of laughs. Wit is important. Life is too short not to love someone who lets you be a fool with them. Make sure they are somebody who lets you cry, too. Despair will come. Find someone that you want to be there with you through those times. Most importantly, marry the one that makes passion, love, and madness combine and course through you. A love that will never dilute - even when the waters get deep, and dark.””

- N’tima (via myfleshdress)

"Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place."

Sun, 12 May 2013 12:35:38 -0400

“Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.”

- Zora Neale Hurston (via loveyourchaos)

myrightkind0fwr0ng: I love her. She loves me. How lucky we are to have found one another.

Sat, 11 May 2013 18:56:36 -0400

myrightkind0fwr0ng:

I love her. She loves me. How lucky we are to have found one another.

"I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of..."

Sat, 11 May 2013 13:30:33 -0400

“

I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.

This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.

And I will not be afraid
of your scars.

I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.

”

- Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers (via waydowntown)

Photo

Fri, 10 May 2013 13:30:17 -0400

Photo

Thu, 09 May 2013 13:30:30 -0400

wrdbnr: Inside the box -First version- is back at the store for...

Wed, 08 May 2013 21:19:28 -0400

wrdbnr:

Inside the box -First version- is back at the store for limited time.

US store / EU store / Jay Roeder version

"People used to tell me that I had beautiful hands. Told me so often in fact that one day I started..."

Wed, 08 May 2013 21:18:23 -0400

“People used to tell me that I had beautiful hands.
Told me so often in fact that one day I started to believe them,
Until I asked my photographer father ‘Hey daddy could I be a hand model?’,
to which he said ‘No way’.
I don’t remember the reason he gave me,
and I would’ve been upset but there were far too many stuffed animals to hold, too many homework assignments to write, too many boys to wave at, too many years to grow.
We used to have a game, my dad and I, about holding hands.
Cause we held hands everywhere.
And every time either he or I would whisper a great big number to the other, pretending that we were keeping track of how many times we had held hands.
That we were sure this one had to be 8, 002, 753.
Hands learn more than minds do.
Hands learn to hold other hands.
How to grip pencils and mold poetry.
How to tickle piano keys, dribble basketballs and grip the handles of a bicycle.
How to hold old people and touch babies.
I love hands like I love people.
They are the maps and compasses with which we navigate our way through life.
Some people read palms to tell your future, but I read hands to tell your past.
Each scar makes a story worth telling. Each callused palm each cracked knuckle a missed punch or years working in a factory.
Now I’ve seen middle eastern hands clenched in middle eastern fists, pounding against each other like war drums,
Each country sees their fists as warriors and others as enemies.
Even if fists alone are only hands.
But this is not about politics, no hands are not about politics. This is a poem about love, and fingers. Fingers interlock like a beautiful zipper of prayer.
One time I grabbed my dad’s hand so that our fingers interlocked perfectly. But he changed position saying “no, that hand hold is for your mom!”
Kids high-five but grown up, we learn how to shake hands… You need a firm handshake, but don’t hold on too tight, but don’t let go too soon, but don’t hold on for too long but…
Hands are not about politics. When did it become so complicated? I always thought it simple.
The other day my Dad looked at my hands as if seeing them for the first time and with laughter behind his eyelids, and with all the seriousness a man of his humor could muster he said, “You know you’ve got nice hands, you could’ve been a hand model!””

- Hands - Sarah Kay (via thegrayghost)

tattoome: Johan Bigfatjoe Ankarfyr

Wed, 08 May 2013 11:54:23 -0400

tattoome:

Johan Bigfatjoe Ankarfyr

-freesoul: words don’t come as easy as they use to they cling to the tongue-to the heart & the...

Tue, 07 May 2013 23:03:12 -0400

-freesoul:

words don’t come as easy
as they use to
they cling to the tongue-
to the heart & the spirit
words don’t come as
easy as they use to
words stay stuck on the
roof of a closed mouth
biting teeth do the talking
words don’t come as easy

christianlanouette: Mandala! un peu enflé et un peu sale :)...

Mon, 06 May 2013 23:55:52 -0400

christianlanouette:

Mandala! un peu enflé et un peu sale :) Christian Lanouette

kubbys-armygirlfriend: viagravated: fucking shit i love...

Mon, 06 May 2013 23:40:43 -0400

kubbys-armygirlfriend:

viagravated:

fucking shit i love this

Oh my fudging goodness!!!! Yessss …thisssss!!! (,: