The Substance Of Grief Is Not Imaginary. It’s As Real As Rope Or The Absence Of Air, And Like Both

When I was in fourth grade, I wanted to read Harry Potter. Someone in my class told me I couldn’t because it wasn’t in my level and I wouldn’t understand it. I read Harry Potter just to spite him. I’ve reread it a million times, it’s one of my favourites. I realised after reread and reread that I didn’t understand it in fourth grade. When I was in sixth grade, I wanted to read the classics. I read the Bell Jar, Red Badge of Courage, Shakespeare, and as many as I could find. I couldn’t tell you what they said. But I looked like I could read at a higher level than I could. I read the same books and plays in high school. They made sense, I enjoyed them, I read them not to prove something but because I wanted to. When I was in eighth grade, I only read murder mysteries and criminal books. That’s what more advanced readers read. I wanted to prove that I could read as well as someone twice, three times my age. I enjoyed them, but it was because I was proving something. When I was in college I reread the series of unfortunate events. I loved every single book, every single line. I’d forgotten what it was like to read a book because I wanted to. I read young adult novels more than anything because I like them. I don’t care that they’re below my level, that they’re ‘too’ young for me. I don’t care that people see me reading them. I realised something. I was taught to read because I needed to. Intelligent people read, that’s how people become smart. Reading isn’t a waste of time like television. I wasn’t taught to love to read. No one is. I found a love of reading by giving up the idea that people gave a shit if I read or not. I enjoy it more than I should. I realised that instead of instilling the idea of doing something because it’s expected or because someone should do something, instill the idea of doing something because you want to. Instill the idea that happiness comes from what we choose, not what others have chosen for us. I realised that when I’m happiest, when I have the most joy, it’s when I do something for me. It’s when there are no expectations, no drive to prove someone wrong. I realised that my happiest when all inhibitions and perceptions are gone. Maybe that’s how we should enjoy our hobbies.

KJS // Advice for someone hiding themselves (via wyattwesleywriting)

you don’t say

My theory is that Aliens just really like cows 

Red Fox by A. Komarov, Original vintage Soviet art print 1976 Listed on Etsy: http://ift.tt/2ogGhQY

There is no calm inside me, no serenity no silence.

Gabriel Gadfly,  “Teething.” (via wordsnquotes)

He drinks and he smokes to forget about me, but at the end of the night, when he’s absolutely wasted and faded, he’s crying over me into another girl’s arms. He is yet again reminded that nothing could take away how much it hurt to lose me. No substance, no drug, nothing. I will always live within his mind and within his heart. It is not a choice. He will have to live with the pain that is the loss of something so great, the best he’ll ever have.

v.m (via writingboutyou)

What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.

I like this, nice job PBS. To comment on their IG: https://instagram.com/p/BR9AalJj2w7/

Of course you can also comment to this post as well.

My piece for the upcoming Beauty and the Beast show at Gallery Nucleus. Check it out this Saturday(~April 2) if you’re around LA! 

Im the wolf among us anon and im gonna die. Why was i right he just let loose jfc

this is exactly how it happened probably totally,