bongsboysandbutts:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this is so beautiful 
bongsboysandbutts:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this is so beautiful 
bongsboysandbutts:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this is so beautiful 
bongsboysandbutts:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this is so beautiful 
bongsboysandbutts:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this is so beautiful 
bongsboysandbutts:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this is so beautiful 
bongsboysandbutts:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this is so beautiful 
bongsboysandbutts:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this is so beautiful 

bongsboysandbutts:

foreheadxkisses:

Body comparisons. 

this is so beautiful 

..

"

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:

How are you?

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:

What is God?

If you think that the Truth can be known
From words,

If you think that the Sun and the Ocean

Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,

O someone should start laughing!
Someone should start wildly Laughing – Now!

"
Rumi
"But some people can’t tell where it hurts.
They can’t calm down.
They can’t ever stop howling."
Margaret Atwood (via rabbitinthemoon)

George Harrison and Pattie Boyd at holidays in Tahiti, 1964.

George Harrison and Pattie Boyd at holidays in Tahiti, 1964.

George Harrison and Pattie Boyd at holidays in Tahiti, 1964.

George Harrison and Pattie Boyd at holidays in Tahiti, 1964.

George Harrison and Pattie Boyd at holidays in Tahiti, 1964.

George Harrison and Pattie Boyd at holidays in Tahiti, 1964.

George Harrison and Pattie Boyd at holidays in Tahiti, 1964.

nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos
nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos
nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos
nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos
nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos

nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos

nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos
nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos
nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos
nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos
nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos

nevver:

Mirror man, Rui Calcada Bastos

"Never, never tell them. Try and remember that. Never tell anyone anything ever. Never tell anyone anything again."
Ernest Hemingway, from The Garden Of Eden

So if I asked you about art, you’d probably give me the skinny… on every art book ever written. Michelangelo? You know a lot about him. Life’s work, political aspirations. Him and the pope. Sexual orientation. The whole works, right? I bet you can’t tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. Seeing that. If I ask you about women, you’ll probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can’t tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman… and feel truly happy. You’re a tough kid. I ask you about war, you’d probably ah throw Shakespeare at me, right? “Once more into the breach, dear friends.” But you’ve never been near one. You’ve never held your best friend’s head in your lap… and watched him gasp his last breath lookin’ to you for help. If I asked you about love, you’d probably quote me a sonnet, but you’ve never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes. Feelin’ like God put an angel on Earth just for you, who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be her angel, to have that love for her be there forever. Through anything. Through cancer. And you wouldn’t know about sleepin’ sittin’ up in a hospital room… for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes… that the terms “visiting hours” don’t apply to you. You don’t know about real loss, ‘cause that only occurs when you love something more than you love yourself. I doubt you’ve ever dared to love anybody that much. I look at you. I don’t see an intelligent, confident man. I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you’re a genius, Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine. You ripped my fuckin’ life apart. You’re an orphan, right? Do you think that I’d know the first thing about how hard your life has been - how you feel, who you are - because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don’t give a shit about all that, because - You know what? I can’t learn anything from you… I can’t read in some fuckin’ book. Unless you wanna talk about you, who you are. And I’m fascinated. I’m in. But you don’t wanna do that, do you sport? You’re terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief.

"

The best reason to live is that there is no reason to live.
I walked to your apartment in the late night.
Flowers I didn’t plant began to be flowers
and I was a color and then I was none.
Conrad said, let the train take you anywhere.
I passed all the old stops. With you I liked being nowhere
and with you I live nowhere now.

The best reason to paint is that there is no reason to paint.
Keith Haring wrote that, it could be about us.
I go into churches and I go into bars:
I feel the time stop.
To feel — you can’t stop at some point.
Stop time. Time stops you.

No one will let you through if you don’t walk your own sadness.
No one will let you touch them if you’re a person at all.

And you. You, you, you
you can read these lines in any order
because I want to leave nothing out anymore
and there’s nothing here.
Words are just words. I got nowhere.
Some new thing — everything I need to feel
I feel twice and risk three of. Some new thing —
how there’s more here without us at all.

"
Alex Dimitrov, from Some New Thing
thevigorsphilosophy:

This is so funny, I’m dying
thevigorsphilosophy:

This is so funny, I’m dying
thevigorsphilosophy:

This is so funny, I’m dying
thevigorsphilosophy:

This is so funny, I’m dying
thevigorsphilosophy:

This is so funny, I’m dying

thevigorsphilosophy:

This is so funny, I’m dying