Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration – that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There's no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we're the imagination of ourselves
Signing in like a good little… (Taken with instagram)
Scottay helping me shop ^_^ (Taken with instagram)
e.e. cummings wrote more than one poem
you don’t have to keep posting “i carry you heart” in the tag
because he has alot more than that one poem
it would be nice to see that in the tag
THIS.
shut by our mingling arms through
a darkness where new lights begin and
increase,
since your mind has walked into
my kiss as a stranger
into the streets and colours of a town—
that i have perhaps forgotten
how, always (from
these hurrying crudities
of blood and flesh) Love
coins His most gradual gesture,
and whittles life to eternity
—after which our separating selves become museums
filled with skilfully stuffed memories”
(Source: oblongblog)
(via teenage-fuk-up)
The beanie has been located!!! Come at me winter, I’m ready for you… Kinda… (Taken with instagram)
hate blows a bubble of despair into
hugeness world system universe and bang
-fear buries a tomorrow under woe
and up comes yesterday most green and young
pleasure and pain are merely surfaces
(one itself showing,itself hiding one)
life’s only and true value neither is
love makes the little…
(Source: wynneskyn)
someone asked me
what home was
and all i could think of
were the
stars
on the tip of your
tongue.
the
flowers
sprouting
from your mouth
the
roots
entwined in
the gaps
between your fingers
the ocean
echoing
inside of your
ribcage.
You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.
Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)
You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.
But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.
Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.
