flyartproductions:

The persistence of Ms. Jackson
The Persistence of Memory (1931), Salvador Dali / Ms. Jackson, Outkast

somewhere there is a 17 year old girl who smells like pomegranates and has summer air tight on her naked skin, wrapping around her scars
like veins in a bloody garden, who won’t make it past tomorrow,

there is a young man, who buys yellow flowers for the woman
in apartment 84B, who learned braille when he realized she
couldn’t read his poetry about her white neck and mint eyes

there are people watching films,
making love for the first time, opening mail with the
heading of ‘i miss you’, cooking noodles with
organic spices and red sauces, buying lemon detergent,
ignoring ‘do not smoke’ signs, painting murals
of his lips in abandoned warehouses, chewing
the words ‘i love you’ over and over again, swallowing
phone numbers and forgotten birthdays, eating
strawberry pies, drinking white wine off of each
others open mouths, ignoring the telephone,
reading this poem

somewhere
someone is thinking
i’m alone
somewhere
someone finally understands
they never really
were

-

poems from my uncles graves (via chewingdirt)

beautiful

(via phoenixandthecarpet)

(Source: irynka, via phoenixandthecarpet)



clamjob:

transparent mary louise parker because why the fuck not
kristinscottthomas:

It’s not just women on film, 18-year-old girls feel pressure to do preventative injecting. I see someone’s face, someone’s body who’d had children and I think they’re the song lines of your experience, and why would you want to eradicate that? I look at people sort of entombing themselves and all you see is their little pin holes of terror… and you think, just live your life, death is not going to be any easier just because your face can’t move. 
- Cate Blanchett (on Botox)


Found one of my inevitable lists while rummaging through old journals, reminiscing. Except that this particular list made me simultaneously sick and serene.
I guess I hadn’t realized until now that there was a time in my life when I was disgusted with myself. When I was incomplete in my own body. When I cared more about comforting other people than loving myself.
But I am so undeniably happy in this moment because I can feel how far I’ve come. I rejoice myself every day and wake up surrounded in my own warmth and worth. I am not only whole, I am enough. I am good enough. I know now that to share the abundance of love I have to give, I have to fall in love with myself.
And while the last four years have been a walking nightmare most of the time, I am elated to announce that I’m in love and it’s with myself.
como-la-florr:

selena in her boutique 

Films watched in 2014: #44 Crazy Love (2007) dir. Dan Klores, Fisher Stevens.

Films watched in 2014: #43 We Are What We Are (2013) dir. Jim Mickle.