07. 31. 14. 12:08 am ♥ 221

Marilyn and Tony Curtis at a press conference for Some Like It Hot in 1958.

Marilyn and Tony Curtis at a press conference for Some Like It Hot in 1958.

via alwaysmarilynmonroe
07. 30. 14. 10:38 pm
Exploring the city with my sisters 😘 High-res

Exploring the city with my sisters 😘

07. 30. 14. 02:13 am ♥ 315641

(Source: adventuringasnotagrownup)

via the-ephemeral-poet-society
07. 29. 14. 12:51 pm ♥ 235704
You should not
have to rip yourself
into pieces to keep
others whole.
i am seeing less and less of you (via pukin)

(Source: stolenwine)

via voodoobones
07. 29. 14. 01:14 am ♥ 2000
High-res

(Source: thefruitmarket)

via fastgirlsdoitwell
07. 31. 14. 12:08 am ♥ 145
Courage is ripping your heart from your chest and saying, “Here, hold on to this for me.”
Rudy Francisco (via fuckyeahrudyfrancisco)
via fuckyeahrudyfrancisco
07. 30. 14. 10:37 pm ♥ 1
'FIVE WORDS IN ORANGE NEON' Portland Art Museum High-res

'FIVE WORDS IN ORANGE NEON' Portland Art Museum

07. 29. 14. 06:12 pm ♥ 2
A glass box, filled with deep cracks.
I am a painfully long book, with pages formed of wax
I melt with every touch, that glides across my back.
I’m a beating, bloody heart- on the verge of heart attack.
I sing hollow songs,
And speak with a wounded tongue.
I am a pair of shaking knees, tired from a run.
I am sweet and sticky honey,
That lingers and and clings to everybody.
I am a daydream’s nightmare.
I am the split end, on a gorgeous head of hair.
I am a symphony, with a bitter ending note.
I am the struck ship, that still remains afloat.
I am a cloud of smoke, that quickly disappears.
I am a child’s eyes, holding in a flood of tears.
I am a stubborn stick shift, reluctant to switch gears.
I am the padlocked diary, scribbled with all your fears.
I am a pair of lungs, chasing shallow breath.
I am an old soul, constantly dodging death.
I Am: letlovelightlife
07. 29. 14. 01:15 am ♥ 131
I close my eyes.
There is a home inside here somewhere.
I remember.
It sinks slightly to the left.
My knees are covered in mud.
The trees have pushed into the living room,
sunflowers are rotting out the woodwork.
I have grown awkwardly into the floorboards.
They remind me that is okay.
I forget.
It keeps me full,
all this emptiness.
The windows are all open.
The hinges let go of every door.
I learn.
Trace the outline of each frame,
hear the echo of hollow footsteps:
“Love more,
love more,
love more.”
I have never been here before.
This is what it must be like;
beginning.
This is what it must be like; healing. (via christopherevan)
via christopherevan
07. 28. 14. 08:16 pm ♥ 15

I watched as the dark clouds billowed
And I lay awake on my pillow.
I fell on the floor as I heard the thunder roar—
Harmonizing with every, single, sore.
I find myself needing more
When you opened the door.

I don’t need you to save me,
You no longer sustain me—
You only increased my insanity.

I see new roads the rain is paving.
It’s not I that you are saving.
Like the sky—we are changing.
We are clouds rearranging
And the wind is waving ‘goodbye’.

Smells of condensation in the air;
I feel your stare overwhelming with care.
I worry that you have become beyond repair
Contemplation in the air; So I sit and compare—
My tears to the rain—
My fears to the pain.

But don’t mistake me,
Storms no longer break me.
I feel no heaviness from your sonic boom,
I am eager to leave the room.

This storm refreshes me,
It decompresses me—
It falls so hard that I cannot even see.
This must be
Nature’s therapy.

Through the streets I weave,
Then I stop and I breathe.
The air is new—
Memory is washed of you.
A refreshing smell lingers,
As I trace puddles with these fingers.

The puddles reflect my face,
They’re gone—all the scars I couldn’t erase.
Finally, we found some space.
If flowers are only brought by April flowers,
In that moment, I was the flower.
So you sit and stare at me,
As I embrace nature’s therapy.

Nature’s Therapy: letlovelightlife (via christopherevan)
via christopherevan