coalesce

spine-notches: ✥ soft grunge & models ✥

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 16:00:18 +0700

✥ soft grunge & models ✥

"It’s midnight now and somewhere in a November that still exists tonight, we’re kissing each other’s..."

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 08:00:19 +0700

“

It’s midnight now and somewhere in a November
that still exists tonight, we’re kissing each other’s knuckles
for the first time.

I’ve swallowed hearts like apricots
and I’ve watched as the juice of being in love
dripped down my chin and spread like watercolors
across my skin.

— I’ve seen what shades I feel in
when I feel in shades of
you.

I’ve lived through seven seas of heartbreak
but I wouldn’t take any of it back
because on each shoreline I found another reason
to let someone lead me into the waves
with my eyes closed.

Do you remember how raw the night seemed
when we cracked the moon over our teeth and let its
yolk run down our throat?

Salmonella or not,
I loved you then.

It’s April now,
and there are showers, like they promised.

Driving around in the rain today,
someone told me that May would be
beautiful again.

But fuck it. I don’t want May flowers.
I only want
you.

”

- “Thinking About The Way You Hold Your Hands Over Flowerbeds,” Shinji Moon (via commovente)

nglkendall: Everyone is cute, they just may not be YOUR kind of cute. But they’re cute to someone,...

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 21:06:54 +0700

nglkendall:

Everyone is cute, they just may not be YOUR kind of cute. But they’re cute to someone, and that thought alone is adorable.

all-things-bright-and-beyootiful: Alixann Loosle Photography

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 16:00:13 +0700

all-things-bright-and-beyootiful:

Alixann Loosle Photography

dearscience: by Lighthouse Keeperess

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 08:00:33 +0700

dearscience:

by Lighthouse Keeperess

"Miss someone until they come back, or until you come back, until their absence in your life becomes..."

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 16:00:10 +0700

“Miss someone until they come back, or until you come back, until their absence in your life becomes something to be avoided at all costs. Miss them until you don’t have to anymore, until you’re reunited in your favorite booth in your favorite restaurant ordering your favorite meal, miss them until it feels like you never left. Or miss them until you can’t anymore, until the things you miss are identified and cataloged as things and not a person, until you figure out that easy company and long talks and unblinking, all-knowing eye contact will find you again the way they found you the first time. Miss someone until you don’t.”

- Stephanie Georgopulus (via hellanne)

travelingcolors: Annular eclipse from Kourou | French Guiana...

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 08:00:18 +0700

travelingcolors:

Annular eclipse from Kourou | French Guiana (by Fabrizio Melandri)

Photo

Sun, 16 Jun 2013 16:00:14 +0700

What are your top 7 favourite books you would recommend to anyone?

Sat, 15 Jun 2013 23:37:26 +0700

Lolita by Vlamidir Nabokov, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Lovers’ Dictionary by David Levithan, The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer, Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro and Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami x

tempuros: Driving! #6

Sat, 15 Jun 2013 21:34:18 +0700

tempuros:

Driving! #6

heartache, part II

Sat, 15 Jun 2013 20:21:36 +0700

danseurs:

heartache, adj: pulsating gently in your veins, lost and nostalgic of wrung out sorrows, undulating waves, a dull murmur beneath your solar plexus. Dumb and dreamy and a sweet tangerine tang, the kind that laces around your tongue; the pale fingerprint of a faded memory, torn and tethered, blurry around the edges. A lump in the throat, swallowed thoughts, quivering silences. A pile of broken bird bones, cinnamon peels, burnt wood. Speckles of dust caught beneath your eyelids, loneliness stitched to the edges of your skin. Empty clavicles. Stained sweaters. Calendars. Dog-eared maps. A warm mug of coffee, raindrops, an old novel. Maybe you’ll be alright.

No I wont, I won’t, I won’t. It’s consuming me whole, and throbbing within me- i could feel it in my ears, those reverberations; the thoughts of you, of us, constantly ricocheting within the dilapidated walls of my mind. i’m worn out and i’m tired and i can’t stop thinking- the memories are raw and vivid and i can still feel your presence so palpably there. a kind of sinking feeling that anchored me to the bottomless, abysmal pits of ocean floors, a feeling that corroded my insides, breaking me down and assimilating my being. long, drawn-out sighs. tears, tears, uncontrollable tears. empty bus rides and dew frosted windows. i miss you, i miss you, i miss you. please, someone alleviate the pain, i’ll do anything to be alright again.