Stargazer-forever - Stargazer-forever

Find the poets, my friend said. They will not speak of the things you and I speak about. They will not speak of economic integration or fiscal consolidation.

They could not tell you anything about the burden of adjustment.

But they could sit you down and tell you how poems are born in silence and sometimes, in moments of great noise, of how they arrive like the rain, unexpectedly cracking open the sky.

They will talk of love, of course, as if it were the only thing that mattered, about chestnut trees and mountain tops, and how much they miss their dead fathers.

They will talk as they have been talking for centuries, about holding the throat of life, till all the sunsets and lies are choked out, till only the bones of truth remain.

The poets, my friend, are where they have always been— living in paper houses without countries, along rivers and in forests that are disappearing.

And while you and I go on with life remembering and forgetting,

the poets remain: singing, singing.

-Tishani Doshi

Jean Cocteau to Jean Marais, 1939 / E. E. Cummings / A Warm Day by Louise Gluck / "Looking East" by Sara Linda Poly / "In the Stillness" by Sara Linda Poly / Debasish Mridha / Picture is from the Pinterest / Albert Camus / Bring Me The Sunset In A Cup by Emily Dickinson

i fucking love tumblr on new years i scroll past a glittertext gif wishing me a happy 2002 i scroll past my mutual wishing me a happy 2018 i scroll past a gifset wishing me a happy 2013 i scroll p

i like to pretend i already died and asked god to send me back to earth so i can swim in lakes again and see mountains and get my heart broken and love my friends and cry so hard in the bathroom and go grocery shopping 1,000 more times. and that i promised i would never forget the miracle of being here

Anybody can love you when it is easy, 

when they love the very idea of you

that they have cultivated to entertain

them, but can you love me when the reality

is different from that which you expect?

Can you love me even when I am a mess

or is your love incapable of expanding

beyond the shallowness of the depths

in which you choose to cautiously wade?

Can you only love me in the colors

that you have painted with the brush of

your own eyes that hides the truth of

this flesh because I am not the heaven

you have made of me, but the cosmic dust

of the reality of this earth and the breath of

the hope of its last prayer?

- J.Wool, Can You Love Me Then, Breaths of the Soul

tweeted excerpts from A Field Guide to Getting Lost, via Rebecca Solnit's twitter

What happens when you take a break at an animal rescue.

(via Reddit)