The Cellar Door

Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there may be in silence...

thenonbinarysafespace:

It’s okay to change your identity. It’s okay to discover new and different versions of yourself and it is okay to move forward and completely change your identities as they come and go and are. To be human is to be fluid, to change. You are not invalid for doing so. 

(via thefoolthewildcardarcana)

levantineviper-archive:

Written on an old doorway in Beirut:

I write because I am poor…
I write because all I have are words
I write because I have grown tired of the emptiness of speech

levantineviper-archive:

Written on an old doorway in Beirut:

I write because I am poor…

I write because all I have are words

I write because I have grown tired of the emptiness of speech

(via howitzerliterarysociety)

blazepress:

These are pictures of different dried human tears. Grief, laughter, onion and change. Each type has a different chemical makeup which makes them appear different.

blazepress:

These are pictures of different dried human tears. Grief, laughter, onion and change. Each type has a different chemical makeup which makes them appear different.

(via myassisheaven)

“They asked me in a very kind and nurturing tone, to stop feeling so depressed. I laughed hysterically, I meant the blunt rudeness that highlighted the sarcasm dripping on my guffaws. It’s okey to call me an imbecile at this point. I know they care to see me smile, to push that nuisance of a pessimistic voice down, hidden in the pile of ‘keep moving forward’ slogans and ‘this too shall pass’ shticks. I could if I would. I would if I can. You see, asking someone to stop feeling the innate and very natural sadness within them, is like reminding someone that the skies above them isn’t there when you shut your eyes. I’m depressed. Let’s get that over with. I will always have days where everything I touch, see, say and do would make me want to put a gun in my hand and cry endlessly, scream soundlessly, break mirrors or fine china, and my favorite—stay underwater for too long, until everything seem blurry. Until everything seem equivalent to what feels too hollow inside of me. You may say that, there are other days—better and brighter ones. And you’re right, but here’s one advice and I hope I’d speak to those out there feeling what I’m feeling, sometimes the darker the days the greater the need to exist. So when you know someone is near that cliff, don’t remind them of their pain, instead just tell them to turn around and stay with them and just wait, they will always choose the ones that say nothing but show so much. Sometimes, just knowing someone who would stand behind, and not say anything until you feel like running again, is more than enough.”

—   Prescription for placebos. -s.p. (via mystrangesilhouettes)

(via mystrangesilhouettes)

gray-firearms:

jeremylawson:

scoobiesnboobies:

victran:

actanonverbaus:

winneganfake:

I HAVE FINALLY FOUND THE PAINT JOB I NEED ON MY CAR.

Drooling….

legit

Imagine the fear when people are walking hella slow in front of your car and you yell “MOVE FUCKER” at them

Normally I don’t reblog newer cars, but that paint is fucking awesome.

Id fucks with it

gray-firearms:

jeremylawson:

scoobiesnboobies:

victran:

actanonverbaus:

winneganfake:

I HAVE FINALLY FOUND THE PAINT JOB I NEED ON MY CAR.

Drooling….

legit

Imagine the fear when people are walking hella slow in front of your car and you yell “MOVE FUCKER” at them

Normally I don’t reblog newer cars, but that paint is fucking awesome.

Id fucks with it

(Source: thestroyer, via myassisheaven)

(Source: thestory-inyou, via myassisheaven)

Most people will tell you they would rather feel too much then too little. Well, that’s because they’ve never felt enough.

“What are you doing on this side of the dark?
You chose that side, and those you left
feel your image across their sleeping lids
as a blinding atomic blast…”

—   An excerpt from Mary Karr's poem "Face Down," in this week’s issue. (via newyorker)

(via tr0tskitty)