Sunnshine on a Rainy day
All my life, my heart has sought a thing I cannot name.
Hunter S. Thompson (via thesummerends)
(Source: sallay, via ivorysorrows)
Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?: Anyone know this?
There’s a little rhyme that’s been stuck in my head for a few months now. I’m fairly sure it’s a witch’s spell from a fairytale or similar story I read when I was younger. However, I have no memory of which book it was. I’ve looked through all the fairytale books and the like in our house and I cannot find it.
All I can remember of the story is that a king has two children, and they are cursed with this. The girl falls into a death-like sleep (like Briar Rose, but without everyone else doing so) and I believe the boy becomes a frog, but I’m not sure. Eventually a prince and princess from a neighbouring kingdom arrive, kiss them and happily ever after.
I’m not sure if it’s to the letter, but the rhyme was something like:
“Sleep like death the old king’s daughter
Old king’s son shall dwell in water
Forever this spell shall last unless
They’re kissed by prince and by princess.”
If anyone has any idea, could you let me know?Reblogs and the like would be amazing.
(via ivorysorrows)
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(via artsaves)
Lenticular clouds over Mount Fuji, Japan. These are stationary lens-shaped clouds that form at high altitudes, usually perpendicular to the direction of the wind.
(Source: moorbay, via die-thylamide)
me and a very hot-looking @neilhimself, a few days after we got engaged, photographed in NYC for coilhouse magazine by allan amato.
And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via larmoyante)
(via marmaladedoll)
And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via larmoyante)
(via marmaladedoll)
(Source: fuckyeahscottpilgrimcomic, via -jordo)
(Source: liquidconfidence, via imaginaryenemy-)
I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.
Sylvia Plath (via hercautionarytales)
(via die-thylamide)
