in the midst of a storm searching for shelter
i came upon one single feather
a half-hearted wish for something better
gracefully cursed
i thirst
~ (｡◕㉨◕｡) ~
~Alyssita~ ☯ ☯ ☯
20, Moonchild, Panda, Mermaid, Dancer, Strawberry, Nurse Major, Vintage, Geek
Just W E I R D
20, Moonchild, Panda, Mermaid, Dancer, Strawberry, Nurse Major, Vintage, Geek
Just W E I R D
"And then one student said that happiness is what happens when you go to bed on the hottest night of the summer, a night so hot you can’t even wear a tee-shirt and you sleep on top of the sheets instead of under them, although try to sleep is probably more accurate. And then at some point late, late, late at night, say just a bit before dawn, the heat finally breaks and the night turns into cool and when you briefly wake up, you notice that you’re almost chilly, and in your groggy, half-consciousness, you reach over and pull the sheet around you and just that flimsy sheet makes it warm enough and you drift back off into a deep sleep. And it’s that reaching, that gesture, that reflex we have to pull what’s warm - whether it’s something or someone - toward us, that feeling we get when we do that, that feeling of being sad in the world and ready for sleep, that’s happiness."
Paul Schmidtberger, Design Flaws of the Human Condition (via larmoyante)
(via xmermaidtearsx)
"Travel is little beds and cramped bathrooms. It’s old television sets and slow Internet connections. Travel is extraordinary conversations with ordinary people. It’s waiters, gas station attendants, and housekeepers becoming the most interesting people in the world. It’s churches that are compelling enough to enter. It’s McDonald’s being a luxury. It’s the realization that you may have been born in the wrong country. Travel is a smile that leads to a conversation in broken English. It’s the epiphany that pretty girls smile the same way all over the world. Travel is tipping 10% and being embraced for it. Travel is the same white T-shirt again tomorrow. Travel is accented sex after good wine and too many unfiltered cigarettes. Travel is flowing in the back of a bus with giggly strangers. It’s a street full of bearded backpackers looking down at maps. Travel is wishing for one more bite of whatever that just was. It’s the rediscovery of walking somewhere. It’s sharing a bottle of liquor on an overnight train with a new friend. Travel is ‘Maybe I don’t have to do it that way when I get back home."
Nick Miller, Isn’t It Pretty to Think So? (via ethereally)
This is certainly the most popular passage in Isn’t It Pretty to Think So? (at least according to online sharing). Long before I started writing that book—while staying in a small hotel in Munich, Germany—I scribbled these words into a Moleskine notebook about my experience abroad. I guess I’m glad I found a way to include them in the book later on.
(via nickmiller)
(via xmermaidtearsx)
