ashes-and-embers:

One of my favourite hobbies is giving extra firm handshakes to straight men to assert my dominance

notinthemaps:

I tell everyone this and I mean it. Buy a journal. Carry it with you everywhere you go. And I mean everywhere. Write about your favorite moments, your least favorite moments, ideas, grocery lists, people you’ve met, strangers you’ve walked past on the street, favorite quotes, words to remember, what the sky looked like at 7pm, new songs you’ve discovered and what they mean to you, your childhood, places you want to go or places you’ve been, write about your passions, how you feel in this exact moment, draw out the mountains, scribble all over the pages. And when that one gets full, buy a new one. Reread it in 2 years, 20 years, when you need a good laugh, when you’re crying on your bathroom floor, read it to your children. You need to remember these moments in your life. They are so important.

babynectar:

“A moon in bloom. Yes, kiss me, now don’t talk.”

— Amy Lowell, from Men, Women & Ghosts: Poems; “The Cremona Violin,”
(via violentwavesofemotion)

caughtinanotherworld:

“She had a passionate longing for the garden, the darkness, the pure sky, the stars.”

— Anton Chekhov, “After the Theatre” (via lesgardenias)

visionarynigga:

very picky on who I choose to fuck with

hxasinthus:

being naked is not sexy. wearing a white 18th century shirt with poofy sleeves tucked into a pair of black high waisted trousers is sexy. there are no exceptions

just-shower-thoughts:

Just imagine how clear was the sky and how full of stars was it in medieval era due to zero light pollution