Confidence is Tragic, Intuition: Magic

Music. Still photos. Poetry. Prose.

funnuraba:

SHOUTOUT TO CATS FOR GETTING THEIR CLAWS STUCK IN THINGS AND THEN WHEN YOU HELP THEY GET OFFENDED THAT YOU TOUCHED THEIR PAW

(via surmounts)

Madness is like intelligence, you know. You can’t explain it. Just like intelligence. It comes on you, it fills you, and then you understand it. But when it goes away you can’t understand it at all any longer.

Marguerite Duras, from Hiroshima, Mon Amour (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via langleav)

Random musings d/t a post I read here on Tumblr

Because so many love stories end in happy endings, most people think they are unrealistic. What people fail to notice is the conflict in between; the twists and turns experienced by the protagonists in the story. Had it ended there, it would have been a tragedy and therefore more suitable to reality. But it didn’t hence the happy ending. As real people though, we have to realise that we are just like them and that our story is not a tragedy… We are still just in the conflict chapter of our story.

flirtytwink:

I just wanna do cute things with you like crush the patriarchy, fight for gender equality and help to destroy racism

(Source: jonasbruhs, via legalwifi)

lapitiedangereuse:

“The truth is that the only time I’m happy is when I’m doing absolutely nothing. I don’t understand people who like to work and talk about it like it was some sort of goddamn duty. Doing nothing feel like floating on warm water to me. Delightful, perfect.” 
― Ava Gardner, Ava: My Story

lapitiedangereuse:

“The truth is that the only time I’m happy is when I’m doing absolutely nothing. I don’t understand people who like to work and talk about it like it was some sort of goddamn duty. Doing nothing feel like floating on warm water to me. Delightful, perfect.” 

― Ava Gardner, Ava: My Story

(via inlovewithaudreyhepburn)

You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.