"Even the most seemingly evil person has the primordial clear light mind at the heart of his or her existence. Eventually the clouds of distortion and delusion will be cleared away as the being grows in wisdom, and the evil behavior that emanates from these negative mindsets will naturally evaporate. That being will realize the essential nature of his or her own mind, and achieve spiritual liberation and enlightenment." by Seventh Dalai Lama of Tibet (via considerthishippie)
(via considerthishippie)
"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars." by Jack Kerouac, On the Road (via nishitak)
(via thecobrasnakee)
As a kid I controlled the weather but somewhere along the vine
of growing up, I lost the ability.
When I danced, the wind used to lift my arms gracefully like
the most elegant of waltz partners and
the heaviness in my lungs once came down
in the harshest of rain storms.
The sun used to kiss my nose with freckles.
As a kid I controlled the weather but
in shame of growing up, I began to hide indoors
And the sun took my absence with the understanding of rejection.
The clouds moved on effortlessly.
It has been years since I waltzed with the wind.
When we grow up, we shed our powers like snake skin
and turn our backs on the things we once loved.
As kids we ran around backyards
pretending to be mutants.
I was always Storm.
(Kayla Farrell, 2012)
Too bad you can’t give your memories away.
Wrap them up nicely in boxes and paper - the way people rewrap presents from the year before. The way people pass on objects they don’t need or want anymore. You might not understand the gift but you will pretend you are happy to have received it the way you do for every gift you have ever received.
Here is the memory of the sand.
Here is the memory of laughter.
Here is the memory of rough hands and soft strokes.
Here is the memory of furrowed brows; of harsh yelling; of broken glass.
Here is the memory of bruises.
Here is the memory of the crackling sound of a silent phone conversation.
Here is the memory of the syncopated breathing.
Here is the memory of the ocean.
(Kayla Farrell, 2012)
"I think same sex couples should be able to get married." by Barack Obama (via newsweek)
(Source: thedailybeast.com, via newsweek)
