©
likeafieldmouse:

James L. - Lenticular Clouds Over Mt. Rainier (2004)
Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen.
― Anne Lamott (via yxq)
mal-grohiik:

And Don’t You Know I’m Not Your Ghost Anymore. (by ryanjamescaruthers)
melisica:

(by Triplusmax)

cap blanc nez, France
I love you, but I’m mad at you is one of the most freeing, important things you can say in a stable relationship. Does that make sense? To know that you have the ability and the right to be mad at someone and know that it doesn’t mean things are over, that it doesn’t mean things are irreparable. That it just means I’m mad, but God, I love you. I love you. Now leave me alone.
― (via devendrabanhart)
worldes:

Belalp, Valais, Switzerland by Gregory Ramos on Flickr.