Peter Pan and Wendy in Disneyland.
THEY’RE HOLDING HANDS. Oh my gahhhhh I can’t even. So damn cute.
For Women Who Are Difficult to Love
“And you tried to change, didn’t you?”
“I felt I was sort of disappearing. It was kind f a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing everytime you crossed a road.”The Catcher In The Rye, J.D. Salinger
via philosophia-naturalis
The Real Hunger Games
I have just under a month left before this semester is over and I can go home and start my fabulous new internship. This means a mad dash to the finish line of all the projects, papers and random assignments I have left. It also means that I need to start thinking about packing. With only a month left of school there’s only a few more meals to be had. So now I begin the harrowing journey of not buying groceries, unless I have to, and only eating what I have in the fridge/freezer so as to not waste food.
That’s the easy part. The hard part is suddenly having food cravings for what I don’t have. Anyone want to bring me pot stickers? Or maybe ice cream (of the mint chocolate chip variety)? How about shrimp, I have a great recipe? No? darn.
When I realize there is just a month left of school
But then I think about how much work is left:
via confessionsofabrokegradstudent
Stagecraft. Where I use power tools, walk on 80ft high catwalks, create stage lighting and occasionally where safety equipment that makes me look like Bane. #DRA211A #dramageek #haventcutoffafingeryet #nowisnotthetimetofear
My dear,
I don’t know what to do today, help me decide.
Should I cut myself open and pour my heart on these pages? Or should I sit here and do nothing, nobody’s asking anything of me afterall.
Should I jump off the cliff that has my heart beating so and develop my wings on the way down? Or should I step back from the edge, and let the others deal with this thing called courage.
Should I stare back at the existential abyss that haunts me so and try desperately to grab from it a sense of self? Or should I keep walking half-asleep, only half-looking at it every now and then in times in which I can’t help doing anything but?
Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee?
Falsely yours,
Albert Camus (via fessemoi)(Source: larmoyante)
via ellyneee
Chalk Board theme
