The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.
—Oscar Wilde (via aquaticwonder)
She was truly a beautiful girl. I could feel a small polished stone sinking through the darkest waters of my heart. All those deep convoluted channels and passageways, and yet she managed to toss her pebble right down to the bottom of it all.
—Haruki Murakami (via pavorst)
The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
submission from brilliant-beautiful-brave
And in the beginning, my lungs had too much air in them, whenever you were near, like I could never breathe out enough. And in the end, my throat closed, whenever you were far, like I could never breathe in again.
—Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via 4mbivalent)
I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways.
—Rumi (via nirvikalpa)
Sharing Poetry: Elizabeth Bishop, “One Art”
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
(via The Sartorialist)
(Source: catfromjapan, via iwillmindfuckyou)
i have 2 huge zits on my face.
bosses are owt. ethics would equate to continuing with my work. except there is no work.
so just hang on for another 32 days and its $1125. who doesnt wanna get paid to do nothing, they say. I have TED, Mere Christianity and my coke to last me 3 hours more til work ends. then its la mian and a night jog!
cant be bothered with making friends. today is very much a thai food and beer day but i shall leave that for the weekends. peace owt.
(via a-thousand-words)
