If school days are the happiest days of your life, I’m hanging myself with my skip-rope tonight.
—Jackie O at 16, in a 1945 note to her boyfriend (via austinda)
(via glamouramort)
You lovely, lovely creature.
I don’t usually care for camping, but this.. this I could do.
At my coolest, learning to play guitar in Paris. In a bed frame with no slats and a wine glass full of ash.
A company of Kossacks
…It all began
Long before it appeared to begin,
And it will end
Long after it has seemingly ended.
It is a web
With strands that begin everywhere
And nowhere.
They stretch
Into the past
And towards the future,
Passing the fine sands of time
From there to there through the pinch of now.
They cross intricately
Yet precisely.
In the centre, something waits.
But the time is not yet come
For this central purpose
To be revealed.
It waits.
We all do.
Thankyou Walt,
While normally I cannot fault anything Disney, I feel I have reached a slight hitch in our until-now perfect relationship.
“It’s a Small World” is an iconic ride; an adventure taken by thousands every day, who usually curse the decision to do so, as the spend the next fourteen hours humming the tune. However, issue is not with the song, or even the creepy animatronics. My problem is that in that whole ‘trip around the world’ Australia is represented in a combined scene with New Zealand with a child that resembles Steve Irwin, a couple of Boomerangs and a Didgeridoo and two Kiwi’s. The Philippines are not represented at all, yet the Mermaid community is sufficiently represented with a whole scene. Because, you know, there are so many of them.
Through another Looking Glass
The rabbit, clutching his pocket watch and readjusting his waistcoat, raced down to the burrow to find Alice looking smaller than usual and crying a river of tears. She looked up and whispered timidly… “I’m late”
Here with me
When I sleep,
she treats me like a baby bird.
Carefully holding
My sleep
In her arms.
When there is noise outside,
Or anything that may agitate my fitful dreams
She covers my ears
As I sleep
Lest I be disturbed.
Oh but don’t you just my dear.
Escaping words..
I have about twelve drafts saved all over my computer- post it notes, tumblr, emails… and I know perfectly well exactly what I would like to write, but the words escape me every time I sit down to organise them. Then, in that blissful place between awake and asleep, or rushing out the door, the words fit together perfectly, forming the sentences that I have been chasing for days. They really do taunt me, taking me deeper into the idea, and then abandoning me again when I try to capture them and commit them to paper. I believe that they are being secretive.
Oh gosh I adore this photo.
I have been thinking. About as deeply as I am capable of, and sometimes, that’s not deep enough to drown in.**
But I have decided that I would like Peter Pan to fly into my window. Well, not into my window, like some more misguided bird, but through my window. Partly because I would love to go to Neverland and get caught up with all of that lovely garbage. But since I am now in my twenties, and Peter still has all of his baby teeth, I think this thought is actually pretty illegal. The other reason, which is more dominant anyway, is because I would like to catch him, wallop him and give him a good whatfor for breaking into the houses of strangers because it is not only dangerous, it certainly is illegal, and just because you are cute and have no need for a dentist, it does not mean you can just wander into the house of anyone. And then I will tell him that he should be thankful that I am only looking out for him and not some crazy person.
**Apparently, humans can drown in just a few inches of water.
