We all know that feeling, vending machine
We watched John Huston’s The Dead; the reading of Donal Og brings me to tears
It is late last night the dog was speaking of you; the snipe was speaking of you in her deep marsh. It is you are the lonely bird through the woods; and that you may be without a mate until you find me.
You promised me, and you said a lie to me, that you would be before me where the sheep are flocked; I gave a whistle and three hundred cries to you, and I found nothing there but a bleating lamb.
You promised me a thing that was hard for you, a ship of gold under a silver mast; twelve towns with a market in all of them, and a fine white court by the side of the sea.
You promised me a thing that is not possible, that you would give me gloves of the skin of a fish; that you would give me shoes of the skin of a bird; and a suit of the dearest silk in Ireland.
When I go by myself to the Well of Loneliness, I sit down and I go through my trouble; when I see the world and do not see my boy, he that has an amber shade in his hair.
It was on that Sunday I gave my love to you; the Sunday that is last before Easter Sunday. And myself on my knees reading the Passion; and my two eyes giving love to you for ever.
My mother said to me not to be talking with you today, or tomorrow, or on the Sunday; it was a bad time she took for telling me that; it was shutting the door after the house was robbed.
My heart is as black as the blackness of the sloe, or as the black coal that is on the smith’s forge; or as the sole of a shoe left in white halls; it was you that put that darkness over my life.
You have taken the east from me; you have taken the west from me; you have taken what is before me and what is behind me; you have taken the moon, you have taken the sun from me; and my fear is great that you have taken God from me.
I have come through a green and red war these last 2 months. My side lost but I am still more alive than ever, in a sense. We have to pass through things, again, again – arguing with a knife blade, a bottle, weeping like a cunt in menopause, afraid to stop out a door…afraid of birds, fleas, mice…encircled by a clock, a typewriter, a half-open closet door full of ghosts, killers, horrors, like sea-bottoms. And then it ends. You are calm again. As calm as…a garage mechanic.
"You are so good. So good, you’re always feeling so much. And sometimes it feels like you’re gonna bust wide open from all the feeling, don’t it? People like you are the best in the world, but you sure do suffer for it."
Silas House, This is My Heart for You (via larmoyante)
"Never waste your time trying to explain who you are to people who are committed to misunderstanding you."
Dream Hampton (via cutiebabykitten)
"This universe is a fan of you. Watch the flowers in the morning, how they open towards the same sun that spends it’s whole day following you."
Anis Mojgani (via mindfullofthings)
aries: fearless as hell
taurus: reliable as hell
gemini: talkative as hell
cancer: dependable as hell
leo: powerful as hell
virgo: smart as hell
libra: friendly as hell
scorpio: strong as hell
sagittarius: real as hell
capricorn: loyal as hell
aquarius: weird as hell
pisces: nice as hell
Cat audition for Sabrina the Teenage Witch for the role of Salem
i love this
new favorite photo
i really wonder which one won omg
the black one probably
It is an unusual school in an unusual location and is run by an unusual teacher.
Rajesh Kumar is a shopkeeper by profession but spends hours every morning teaching around 80 children from the poorest of the poor in India’s capital.
The 43-year-old visited the construction of the Delhi transit station a few years ago and was disturbed by the sight of many children playing at the site instead of attending school.
When he questioned the parents working at the sites they all said there were no schools in the vicinity and no one cared.
Consequently, his open-air class room was born - between pillars and beneath the tracks of the Delhi transit system, known as the Metro.
Every few minutes a train passes above, the children unperturbed by its sounds.
There are no chairs or tables and the children sit on rolls of polystyrene foam placed on the rubble.
Three rectangular patches of wall are painted black and used as a blackboard.
Anonymous donors have contributed cardigans, books, shoes and stationery for the children, as their parents cannot afford them.
One unnamed individual sends a bag full of biscuits and fruit juice for the pupils every day - another incentive for the children to turn up for their studies.
Heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time. Crazy.