The hand that you sometimes hold doesn’t do anything.
The face that you see in the door isn’t standing there anymore.
The name that you call in its place isn’t waiting for your embrace.
The world that you love to behold cannot hold you anymore.
— Beach House ♪
Come down from the mountain, you have been gone too long.
Spring is upon us, follow my only song.
Darling, I can barely remember you beside me here.
You should come back home, back on your own now.
— Fleet Foxes ♪
Everyone within eye-rolling distance of me is talking about the ‘shocking’ turnout of The Bachelor last night. Meanwhile, I’m just sitting here
Love.
I don’t want candy or flowers. I want Geoff sitting on my couch drinking booze and painting his nails like I wouldn’t turn around and catch him. :)
She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to corkboard like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew.
- Jerry Spinelli, Stargirl
I love random…
When you’re walking on the streets of the northern city you loathe but...
Hand drawn hand digitally processed in ps.
Philippe Petit on the wire (Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris, 1971)
