I like art, and by art I mean music, poetry, sex, paintings, the human body, literature… All of this is art to me.
Hunter Reveur (via shessofuckedinthehead)
The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell from whence it comes or where it is going.
-
Sometimes I miss you
the way someone drowning
remembers the air.Tim Seibles, “Slow Dance” (via larmoyante)via larmoyante➜ -
When we speak
we are afraid our words will not be heard
or welcomed.
But when we are silent,
we are still afraid.
So it is better to speak.via pathsunfamiliar➜
