seven993
Ireland.
seven993
andresc64:

The death of Carl Sagan.
criticalnotices:

via xframccartney
"And then one student said that happiness is what happens when you go to bed on the hottest night of the summer, a night so hot you can’t even wear a tee-shirt and you sleep on top of the sheets instead of under them, although try to sleep is probably more accurate. And then at some point late, late, late at night, say just a bit before dawn, the heat finally breaks and the night turns into cool and when you briefly wake up, you notice that you’re almost chilly, and in your groggy, half-consciousness, you reach over and pull the sheet around you and just that flimsy sheet makes it warm enough and you drift back off into a deep sleep. And it’s that reaching, that gesture, that reflex we have to pull what’s warm - whether it’s something or someone - toward us, that feeling we get when we do that, that feeling of being safe in the world and ready for sleep, that’s happiness."
Paul Schmidtberger, Design Flaws of the Human Condition  (via lovehermindlovehershoes)
reesesweatshirt:

 

“You’re the bravest boy I’ve ever met.”
frankocean:

desensitized eyes on this body i am…in this mirror i am. i got ostracized and didn’t notice till i closed my eyes last a.m. didn’t see. i need a point to keep these eyes in focus. i need my eyes to be quicker than your hands. they aren’t and won’t ever be- so when you do magic i won’t watch. see, my eyes have an ego. i need these eyes like..i need the holes in my head. i always find something off, like a hairline. symmetry gives me boner, it isn’t boring at all. my eyes don’t bore me at all. neither do yours. i never saw you fuck, except that one time? i still get off to the residue that the image left behind. what i see inside my mind now isn’t technically with my eyes. i heard about a third, but i’ll believe it when i see it blink on my forehead. big head. five head. eye don’t know. eyes just talking.   
"In summer, the song sings itself."
William Carlos Williams