tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #756 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for Tired Eyes:
I want fireworks from mountaintops and lightning from windowsills.  I want lazy board games where rules forget to matter and I want shouting matches over important things.  I want a passion that burns through us and sets the sheets on fire.  I want to wake up covered in soot from the night before.  I want a hand to catch my head when my eyes fill up with water, and I want fingers to find my shoulders when the weight of a lifetime feels too heavy from time to time.  I want to be the tireless palms that rub the aches from your flesh and the kiss on the forehead after you fall asleep from it.  I want the steering wheel cold in my hands on the start of a morning road trip far from here and I want to be the sound of your legs stretching when we stop for gas.  I want the photos of every sign at the border of every state and I want my fingers slightly stained with the stamps from every visa in our passports.  I want the odor of strange food that snakes its way down long streets and the sound of boots on cobblestone and clay.
Part Two.

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #756 by Tyler Knott Gregson

Text for Tired Eyes:

I want fireworks from mountaintops and lightning from windowsills.  I want lazy board games where rules forget to matter and I want shouting matches over important things.  I want a passion that burns through us and sets the sheets on fire.  I want to wake up covered in soot from the night before.  I want a hand to catch my head when my eyes fill up with water, and I want fingers to find my shoulders when the weight of a lifetime feels too heavy from time to time.  I want to be the tireless palms that rub the aches from your flesh and the kiss on the forehead after you fall asleep from it.  I want the steering wheel cold in my hands on the start of a morning road trip far from here and I want to be the sound of your legs stretching when we stop for gas.  I want the photos of every sign at the border of every state and I want my fingers slightly stained with the stamps from every visa in our passports.  I want the odor of strange food that snakes its way down long streets and the sound of boots on cobblestone and clay.

Part Two.

1,067 notes

wonderous-world:

Remember Champ, the happiest dog in the world? His owner, Candice Sedighan, just shared with us a new series of photos she’s taken of the adorable dog and his new found friends. Recently, Candice ran into a man who was holding chicks in a box. “He asked me if I think any factories would want them, but I offered to take them instead so I could find them a safer home. I bought all the necessary supplies to keep them comfortable and healthy for a few days, and will be donating them to a local college’s teaching farm.” See more photos of Champ and his adventures via Instagram.

(via plasticbubble)

33,764 notes

Weary the bed grows,
longing constantly for you,
but so too do I.

1,151 notes

theusualhijinks:

The special curtain.
The Fox Theatre - Atlanta, GA

theusualhijinks:

The special curtain.

The Fox Theatre - Atlanta, GA

(via gideonmelloy)

8 notes

lordkirby:

Collier Road

lordkirby:

Collier Road

(via gideonmelloy)

4 notes

ibrandster:

i think of this whenever i buy anything over $10

ibrandster:

i think of this whenever i buy anything over $10

(via serendipitous-freedom)

224,559 notes

St. Vincent - These Days

micdel:

These Days - cover by St. Vincent

I’ve stopped my dreaming
I won’t do too much scheming these days
These days…
These days I sit on cornerstones
And count the time in quartertones to ten
Please don’t confront me with my failures
I have not forgotten them

(via mantzoukas)

1,026 notes

Maybe I don’t like people as much as the rest of the world seems to…But occasionally, people will pleasantly surprise me and I’ll fall in love with them, so go figure.

Mark Oliver Everett (via siberiana)

(via siberiana)

1,670 notes

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