beautifulpicturesofhealthyfood:
Pear walnut and mock-banana-ice-cream tower - made only with whole food ingredients, it’s absolutely gorgeous and so simple to make…RECIPE
(via kbouveret)
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things. by Mary Oliver, “Wild Geese” (via arosary)
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things. by Mary Oliver, “Wild Geese” (via arosary)
(via loveyourchaos)
I no longer need you to fuck me as hard
as I hate myself.Make love to me
like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.
Go slow.
I’m new to this
but I have seen nearly every city from a rooftop without jumping.
I have realizedthat the moon did not have to be full for us to love it.
We are not tragedies
stranded here beneath it.—Buddy Wakefield, “We Were Emergencies”
(Source: moon-ster, via rockseelalonde)
Tartine (by schorlemädchen)
Poetry (by :: ECTHELION ::)
I need to spend more time in my kitchen. I miss cooking.
(via kbouveret)
That night when you kissed me
I left a poem in your mouth
You can hear some of the lines
Every time you breathe out
And it’s not the best thing I’ve ever written
I’m still working on my rhythm
My tongue gets tied sometimes
My throat gets dry
My hands start trembling
Honestly, the only thing I’ve ever mastered
Is how to write a really good ending. by Andrea Gibson, “Yarn” (via larmoyante)
I left a poem in your mouth
You can hear some of the lines
Every time you breathe out
And it’s not the best thing I’ve ever written
I’m still working on my rhythm
My tongue gets tied sometimes
My throat gets dry
My hands start trembling
Honestly, the only thing I’ve ever mastered
Is how to write a really good ending. by Andrea Gibson, “Yarn” (via larmoyante)
(Source: likeafieldmouse, via mizenscen)
(via hermicent)
your blog makes me feel inspired. have a lovely day :) asked by goodkunlong
wow, im really glad to hear that! thank you and have an lovely day too :)
I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.
by Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul (via larmoyante)
(Source: mercuriii, via motellights)
you could hammer a nail with the way i feel (by anne mumford)
There’s no word for loving more
than you should, just the feeling of excess,
as if your tongue burst in a rash of red sequins,
as if everyone can see your stutter in the air,
staccato love you, love you, and nothing in the world
standing in that space to receive it. by Rebecca Hazelton, from “Love Poem for What It Is” (via leopoldgursky)
than you should, just the feeling of excess,
as if your tongue burst in a rash of red sequins,
as if everyone can see your stutter in the air,
staccato love you, love you, and nothing in the world
standing in that space to receive it. by Rebecca Hazelton, from “Love Poem for What It Is” (via leopoldgursky)
(via leopoldgursky)
