Immerse Your Soul In Love

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a picture I took of my sweet Kameron this weekend

"I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you–and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

- Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (via larmoyante)

206 notes | 4 days ago

1309

modcloth:

So impressed with this made-to-order, cutout-heart dress from Etsy seller alexandragrecco!

361

miaule:

shtemilyposts:

this maybe my favorite song in the universe.

Right?!

5 notes | 5 days ago

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

kamwithak:

Band of Horses - The Funeral (Sound Remedy Remix)

3 notes | 5 days ago

6826

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elliejune:

A world of so many hands, hands that don’t know what to do.
Fingers spread apart so that the world at your feet, you can see. And then, fingers cross behind backs—we break promises.
And then, we scrape and claw at confidants. When they warned you. They wouldn’t be there for long. There they go—and you wave because you thought you should be good one last time.
Fingers spread apart again, tremble and compress. Fists, we make, when no one’s watching. Wrists, sit in your lap. Limp, ready to punch air. What we know not is—within the mighty palm, a maelstrom of energy that is to be released. Of warmth and knowledge, we instead keep. Selfishly. You grasp, you squeeze.
A lady in the pew to your left, down on her knees—she clasps hands with herself. Because god won’t anymore. No, god told us we shouldn’t be sorry. And then, he left her be.
Fists in coat pockets. Hands draw boulevards. Flip light switches, and then burn bridges. Hands rearrange picture frames. Make wine, and cling to sheets.
Fingers touch
They feel other hands
Other lips
And at this posed friction—hands speak finally
Paint afterlives
The body paralyzed, for a moment
Cheeks flush, and eyes beckon more light
Flesh, raw and guilty
And aches that feel right
Hands clean, your fingerprints from muscle memory
On my hands
How now do you suppose I wash them clean. Well, you see—fingers crossed, I’ll break promises I didn’t mean.

9089

diving in it
living life on the edge
love you all

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28651

sc0rn:

song makes me happy but like sad

cosascool:

Hyper-Realistic Painting by Omar Ortiz

(via opalenoire)

7,034 notes | 5 days ago

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

I want to hold the hand inside you
I want to take a breath that’s true
I look to you and I see nothing
I look to you to see the truth

(Source: a-whimper)

4 notes | 6 days ago

Clementine: Joely?
Joel: Yeah Tangerine?
Clementine: Am I ugly?
Joel: Uh-uh.
Clementine: When I was a kid, I thought I was. I can’t believe I’m crying already. Sometimes I think people don’t understand how lonely it is to be a kid, like you don’t matter. So, I’m eight, and I have these toys, these dolls. My favorite is this ugly girl doll who I call Clementine, and I keep yelling at her, “You can’t be ugly! Be pretty!” It’s weird, like if I can transform her, I would magically change, too.
Joel: You’re pretty.
Clementine: Joely, don’t ever leave me.
Joel: You’re pretty… you’re pretty… pretty…

(Source: thatdbenice, via rebeccawrites)

5,703 notes | 6 days ago