Latest Posts by where-the-woodbine-twineth - Page 4
To taste the gentle moon,
John Keats, from The Complete Poems and Selected Letters; “Endymion,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
Alice in Wonderland (1951)
I think we would me much more alive if we dared ourselves to recognize that we are not obligated to know who we are at every given moment.
Jorge Bucay, Argentine gestalt psychotherapist, psychodramatist (1949–)
original: “Creo que estaremos mucho más vivos si nos atrevemos a darnos cuenta de que no estamos necesariamente obligados a saber en todo momento quienes somos.” (via fyp-psychology)
ok universe, i’m ready to feel good things. make me feel good things.
The greatest thing that we can do is to help somebody know that they’re loved and capable of loving.
Mr. Rogers (via deeplifequotes)
Source.
Smoke Like Phantoms
Smoke like souls
Crooked, gnarling ghosts that float right through you.
They are free when they are taken by the wind.
Dissipated, faded into empty air.
Until that’s all that’s left.
Empty space.
Empty?
It must still be full of ghosts.
They must be somewhere.
All the ghosts in this space alone,
How many in this house?
How many in the garden?
The forgotten patrons of this land,
An unimaginable multitude of memories.
Does anyone keep these memories still?
I want to believe that this place gave joy.
I have felt joy here.
I have seen such beauty in this land, but
It has also witnessed my pain.
It has watched my adolescence unfold.
Whoever owns this house next will never know.
Does it remain, in the ghosts
Of the smoke
That stains these walls?
- S.T / moving out
by Echo Wang
I gave my heart in soft surrender—
Edna St. Vincent Millay, from Collected Poems; “Truck-Garden Market-Day,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
“Matou a Família e Foi ao Cinema” (Júlio Bressane, 1969)
“Every season is not a harvest. There are seasons of watering, planting, pulling up weeds and fertilizing.”
God, how painful it is, being angry.
Simone de Beauvoir, tr. by Justin O’Brien, from “The Woman Destroyed,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself; I am large — I contain multitudes.
Walt Whitman (via quotemadness)
Lately I’ve been getting most of my pep talks from Mister Rogers.
“I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.” -Claude Monet
aries.. the world is filled with flying baby dragons, blowing ruby fire with birthday cakes, welcome to the world, the sky is covered in balloons, their wings from heaven still sewn on their backs, tiny battle swords in their hands, ready to defend their land
taurus… the air tastes like cinnamon and everything is edible, it tastes of coconut macaroons, money grows on trees, and nature sings songs… everything is cosy, and comfortable, an eternal twilight, beauty is eternal, dance is the walk of the gods
gemini… the world is thousands of little pixies flying with golden helmets and wings on their ballet shoes, messages are heralded across the sky, and rollercoasters loop through libraries so they grab a thousand books in a hurry
cancer… a giant half crescent moon hangs in the sky, illuminating the day and the night in gentle evening glow…the morning air tastes of vanilla icecream… shells are boats that transport people from place to place… the frost of snow so it can be blankets and cuddles…
leo.. the world echoes with babies giggling and the saxophones of broadway. the sun is shining, illuminating everything with silver crystals, red carpets are rolled before their feet… crowns are upon every head.. palaces line the street, and the footpaths are mirrors to reflect the exquisite beauty of every citizen
virgo… little elves fly with golden helmets and wings made of leaves.. tonics and curatives grow in green bottles from the trees… the air is fresh and the streets are clean… the earth is worshiped
libra… the air tastes of musk and strawberries and swallows fly in stunning circles, making music and art… the world is balanced on a set of scales… and everything falls when righteousness is not served… women run parliament, business, and the economics… valentines day is a day of glorious celebration
scorpio.. the world is surrounded by black sea, glowing with radioactivity… the walls around each house are high, security is important… wires connect to the cosmos transmitting psychic symbols and revelation… witches and druids line the streets with tarot, and zodiac, and empath healing sorcery
sagittarius… the world is filled with the colour, dance, and love of a thousand cultures, languages, and religions… temples hit the sky with arrows etched in the sky.. the dream of ascension in every resident… the gods and goddesses walk the street, retelling their stories in everyday life
capricorn… the world is cities lined in silver, surrounded in colossal mountains… with millions of clocks making music with time, wizards are the sherpers who guide the mountain haul, waiting on top is a slide from heaven to earth, so their mermaid tails can soak in the sea again
aquarius…UFO’s and spaceships zip through the sky, as people with fly with jetpacks and hoverboards.. the cities are light in flashing neon rainbows, and they swim in a sea of giant chemistry sets filled with swirling liquid glitter
pisces.. the world is a little darkened and it rains often, but the rain makes a lullaby, and it isn’t customary to wake until the evening… the cities are surrounded in milky water with mermaids emerging, calling and longing for their return into the sea, the place is timeless and they never awake from dream
-C.
“My brother used to ask the birds to forgive him; that sounds senseless but it is right; for all is like the ocean, all things flow and touch each other; a disturbance in one place is felt at the other end of the world.”
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
“The Beguiled” (dir. Sofia Coppola, 2017)
✿ Ladies among flowers ✿
Paintings by Wilhelm Menzler, Hans Zatzka & Charles Amable Lenoir
Colmar, France
Act like you’re blessed. Talk like you’re blessed. Walk like you’re blessed. Think like you’re blessed. Smile like you’re blessed. Dress like you’re blessed. Put actions behind your faith, and one day you will see it become a reality.
I did the being edgy and self-deprecating thing, it gets old. I wanna be soft and lovely and easily impressed. I wanna appreciate all the little things that make me happy the same way I’ve dwelled on every single thing that upsets me.
You are healing.
You are growing.
You are evolving.
This is a quiet magic.
Shostakovich’s 11th symphony was on the radio at an eerily perfect time.
“Quietness, silence, total stillness, it is the greatest teacher. Reality shines through when there is silence. If you want to experience reality just keep quiet. That is all you have to do. Shut up. Stop talking. Stop thinking. Stop imagining. Leave it all alone.”
— Robert Adams