Stephanie*AH

"May my heart always be open to the little birds who are the secrets of living..." e.e. cummings

chrisozer:

POP!

Knot & Bow Confetti Balloons

I want a trouble-maker for a lover, blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.

—Rumi  (via absea)

(Source: seabois, via perfectday-for-bananafish)

I am
a series of
small victories
and large defeats
and I am as
amazed
as any other
that
I have gotten
from there to
here…

—Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers At Last (via introspectivepoet)

Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It’s like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can’t stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship.