Some mornings the sun slips over the horizon like a penny slips out of your pocket.
“I find myself, at last, in perfect silence.
Knowing the little that is left.
Knowing I have to love it.
Wanting to love it. For both our sake.”
Knowing the little that is left.
Knowing I have to love it.
Wanting to love it. For both our sake.”
Raymond Carver, from ‘The Sensitive Girl’, Ultramarine: Poems
(via soracities)
(via soracities)
The sound of heavy rain while you are in bed.
wealthy white woman: *is sad*
wealthy white woman: if i don’t backpack through the palm forests of sri lanka right NOW i might never be happy again
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