"up with the static and the radio"

Ferris Wheels & Jasmine Tea & Pancakes & Dragonfruit & All my love in refuge bay.

Don’t talk to me of love. I’ve had an earful
And I get tearful when I’ve downed a drink or two.
I am one of your talking wounded.
I am a hostage. I am maroonded.
But I am in Paris with you.

Yes, I am angry at the way I’ve been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess that I’ve been through.
I admit I am on the rebound
And I don’t care where are we bound.
I am in Paris with you.

Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre,
If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame
If we skip the champs Elysees
And remain here in this sleazy
Old hotel room
Doing this or that
To what and whom
Learning who you are,
Learning what I am.

Don’t talk to me of love. Let’s talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There’s that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
And I am in Paris with you.

Don’t talk to me of love. Let’s talk of Paris.
I am in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
I am in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I am in Paris with all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?

I am in Paris with you.

She was one of those languid women, made of dark honey, smooth and sweet, and terribly sticky, who take control of a room with a syrupy gesture, a toss of the hair, a single slow whiplash of the eyes- and all the while remain as still as the centre of a hurricane, apparently unaware of the force of gravity by which they irresistibly attract themselves the yearnings and the souls of both men and women.

Patrick Süskind, Perfume (via seabois)

(via hernameismoon)

lana-grant-may:

carry-on-my-wayward-nun:

p1ants:

i think freckles, stretch marks, tattoos, bruises, birthmarks and scars are probably the coolest thing, you started with almost a blank canvas and look at u now, all this evidence that you’ve lived and the sun has shone on you and you’ve grown and maybe tripped up a few times and liked an image so much u made it a permanent part of u, beautiful.

That’s one of the most uplifting things I’ve read

This needs to get passed around more

(Source: artvevo, via shreddingmountains)

lana-grant-may:

carry-on-my-wayward-nun:

p1ants:

i think freckles, stretch marks, tattoos, bruises, birthmarks and scars are probably the coolest thing, you started with almost a blank canvas and look at u now, all this evidence that you’ve lived and the sun has shone on you and you’ve grown and maybe tripped up a few times and liked an image so much u made it a permanent part of u, beautiful.

That’s one of the most uplifting things I’ve read

This needs to get passed around more

(Source: artvevo, via shreddingmountains)

Anonymous asked: We were cut for each other, no more, no less. I pine for your spine and your hands, so oddly godly on me, so peacefully fitting. I can see in your eyes, so much, that you only want the same, and yet your mouth dares to deny us both that pleasure. It took us more than two years to realise, and you dare to look me in the eye and say no to us both. You wonder at my anger.

Home is where the mountains are ❤️

I must have books everywhere. They are the soul of a room - they reveal the taste, the interests and the secrets of whoever lives there.

—Diane von Furstenberg (via fortheloveofmegan)

(Source: bibliophilefiles, via prettystuff)


Pursuit of the Serotonin Molecule; in other words, Pursuit of Happiness

Pursuit of the Serotonin Molecule; in other words, Pursuit of Happiness

(Source: datsiq, via cityofmountains)