For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse.

So collapse.
Crumble.
This is not your destruction.

This is your birth.

—n.t.  (via hnji)

(Source: astrasperas, via eleutheromania-wandererrr)

And I understand. I understand why people hold hands: I’d always thought it was about possessiveness, saying ‘This is mine’. But it’s about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about I want you with me and don’t go.

—She was always holding my hand (via everythingyoulovetoohate)

(via infinityandyou)

Falling in love with yourself first doesn’t make you vain or selfish, it makes you indestructible.

—Things I’ll teach my children (via infl4ted)

(via anditslove)

I believe that
your soul

and
my soul

are
very

old friends.

Mandeq Ahmed, “Mates”  (via lyrexz)

(via hikariasanare)

asylum-art:

Spectacular colour  into this arid Utah desert by Guy Tal

"Every few years, for a few fleeting days, when conditions are just right, these otherwise arid lands burst into color with carpets of Scorpionweed and Beeplant." - Utah’s badlands"

The Badlands region in the American West is famous (or infamous) for its arid and unforgiving landscape, which is decorated by sharp and eroded spires of stone. If you catch it at just the right moment and in the right conditions, however, these apparent wastelands can give birth to an extraordinary explosion of color and life in the form of beautiful wildflowers.

(via dreamonlittlelady)

You can be in a relationship for two years and feel nothing; you can be in a relationship for 2 months and feel everything. Time is not a measure of quality; of infatuation, or of love.

—(via hefuckin)

(Source: lozzat, via itslaurenslife)

The world is big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.

John Muir (via misswallflower)

Today a plane,
Plucked from the sky,
Fell like Lucifer;
With flames running high.

And I thought my life was hard,
Sitting next to tramps on the bus
Stinking of sweat; all with
Faces covered in acne and pus.

How lucky am I? A winner of
The lottery of birth;
Look how another suffers
For my easy life on earth.

Today a plane,
Plucked from the sky,
Fell like Lucifer;
And only God knows why.

The Lottery Of Birth

By Ryan Havers

(via ryanhavers)

(via believeinlostsouls)

peacebewithyoou:

hail-whore-gore:

gulping:

THIS IS AMAZING

BANKSY IS THE FUCKING BEST.

!!!!!I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

peacebewithyoou:

hail-whore-gore:

gulping:

THIS IS AMAZING

BANKSY IS THE FUCKING BEST.

!!!!!I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

(Source: 23plusone, via grey-panther)

The little things? The little moments? — They aren’t little to me.

—John Zabat-Zinn  (via psych-facts)

(Source: shaefierce, via psych-facts)

NIGHTNIGHT by DEDDY