The Latest

Apr 16, 2014 / 302 notes
The world you see is just a movie in your mind.
Rocks dont see it.
Bless and sit down.
Forgive and forget.
Practice kindness all day to everybody
and you will realize you’re already
in heaven now.
That’s the story.
That’s the message.
Nobody understands it,
nobody listens, they’re
all running around like chickens with heads cut
off. I will try to teach it but it will
be in vain, s’why I’ll
end up in a shack
praying and being
cool and singing
by my woodstove
making pancakes.
Jack Kerouac
Apr 16, 2014 / 3 notes
explore-blog:

Absolutely fantastic and culturally necessary read on our hidden biases, to which even the best-intentioned of us are susceptible.
Apr 16, 2014 / 799 notes

explore-blog:

Absolutely fantastic and culturally necessary read on our hidden biases, to which even the best-intentioned of us are susceptible.

Apr 15, 2014 / 3 notes

Childish Gambino - Sweatpants ft. Problems

"don’t be mad ‘cause I’m doing me better than you doing you."

Apr 14, 2014 / 1,626 notes

buttonpoetry:

Gage Wallace - “How We Have Learned To Love”

"This is how we have learned to love. Texting each other pictures of our bodies. When we share a bed, we only know how to touch ourselves."

Anka Zhuravleva
Apr 14, 2014 / 269 notes
If you’re thinking of letting me go then it’s time that you do.
SOHN - Tremors 
Apr 14, 2014
mskstr:

Today’s set: Typical outskirts.
11-apr-2014

 childhood spent in a building like that. 
graffiti and piss. 13th floor. constantly broken elevators. 
Apr 14, 2014 / 185 notes

mskstr:

Today’s set: Typical outskirts.

11-apr-2014

 childhood spent in a building like that. 

graffiti and piss. 13th floor. constantly broken elevators. 

(via darksilenceinsuburbia)

nevver:

Sext
Apr 13, 2014 / 5,634 notes
'Why is it,' he said, one time, at the subway entrance, ‘I feel I’ve known you so many years?’
‘Because I like you,’ she said, ‘and I don’t want anything from you.’
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 (via larmoyante)
Apr 13, 2014 / 3,141 notes
But this dark is deep:
now I warm you with my blood, listen
to this flesh.
It is far truer than poems.
Marina Tsvetaeva, from “Poem of the End” (translated by Elaine Feinstein)

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)

Apr 13, 2014 / 640 notes
Apr 13, 2014 / 219 notes

portraitsofmiddleeast:

UN: Syria Crisis Third Anniversary: A Child of the Conflict

Ashraf was born the very day the Syria conflict began: March 15, 2011. He is the seventh child in a family from Homs. Within a week of his birth, the conflict arrived in his neighbourhood. For months his family rarely left the house. Some days there was non-stop bombing, others were eerily quiet. On the quiet days, Ashraf’s mother made a run with him to the local health clinic for vaccinations and check-ups.

When Ashraf was about 18 months old, his aunt, uncle and cousin were murdered - their throats slit - as the boy slept nearby in his family’s home. Terrified that they were next, Ashraf’s family crammed into their car, taking a few precious belongings, and drove to the border.

They left behind their home, built by Ashraf’s father and uncle. Within days the house was looted and destroyed. Photographer Andrew McConnell visited the family at their new home, in Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley, which was also built by Ashraf’s father and uncle. Located on the edge of a muddy field, it is a patchwork of plastic sheeting, canvas and scrap metal. The floor is covered with blankets and mattresses from UNHCR. They now face new challenges such as the daily battle to keep the children warm, dry and protected from rats. Ashraf still starts at sudden loud noises, but the doctor told his mother that the boy would get used to it.

(via revolutionaryriots)