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Beekeeper
Keaton Henson

Keaton Henson | Beekeeper

Can you see?
Can you see they tell you lies thus keeping you weak
Leave me, my heart is dead for all to see
Can you see?

You all say I’ve crossed a line,
But the sad fact is I’ve lost my mind
You all say I’ve crossed a line,
But the sad fact is I’ve lost my mind

'Cause I'm just getting started, let me offend
The devil’s got nothing on me my friend
All I want is to be left alone
Tact from me is like blood from a stone

(Source: softshinythings)

timsenblue:

Bucky (from)

timsenblue:

Bucky (from)

In loneliness, the lonely one eats himself; in a crowd, the many eat him. Now choose.

- Friedrich Nietzsche (via wordsnquotes)

kitsune-jade:

Steve Rogers/Captain America by Junseo

kitsune-jade:

Steve Rogers/Captain America by Junseo

(Source: twitter.com)

Friendship isn’t about who you’ve known the longest. It’s about who walked into your life, said “I’m here for you” and proved it.

- Unknown (via stevenbong)

(Source: ispeakquotes.com)


the kind you s a   v  e
the kind you s a   v  e

(Source: leidoscope)

other-wordly:

pronunciation | 'GE-bel (GEE-bel)submitted by | single-espresso submit words | here Russian characters | гибель

other-wordly:

pronunciation | 'GE-bel (GEE-bel)
submitted by | single-espresso
submit words | here
Russian characters | гибель

(Source: 3intheam)

Comptine D' un Autre Ete
Yann Tiersen

(Source: man-of-prose)

hellanne:

by Agu Lepkie

hellanne:

by Agu Lepkie

When god became lonely
he created man,
Or was it
When man became lonely
he created god.

- Melanie Exler strengthenizer (via strengthenizer)

asylum-art:

The Eerie Beauty Of Crimea’s Abandoned Soviet-Era Salt Mine Might

Crimeans call it Sivash, or the “Rotten Sea,” in reference to the unpleasant smell that wafts from the network of shallow, salty lagoons. But for those willing to look past the stench, an otherworldly vista awaits.

Sergey Anashkevych, a photographer in the region, has captured jaw-dropping photos of the marshy area, which includes an abandoned Soviet-era salt mine. According to Caters News Agency, in some spots, the water takes on a deep crimson hue as a result of halobacteria, single-celled microorganisms that are purple in color and found in highly salty

I was the kind of child who always looked for fairies dancing on the grass. I wanted to believe in witches, wizards, ogres, giants and enchanted spells. I didn’t want all of the magic taken out of the world by scientific explorations.

- V.C Andrews, Flowers in the Attic  (via owls-love-tea)

(Source: blushingbreathless)

(Source: mrgolightly)

why should i carry on living?

Anonymous

writingsforwinter:

Birthdays. Setting fires. Holding hands. Making stew on cold nights. Mountain climbing. Sleep. First dates. Vacation. Spending the day in bed. Buying wedding rings. Exploring a forest. Playing peekaboo with a baby. Watching someone smile genuinely. Camping. Stargazing. Counting rings on a tree. Realizing that someone loves you. Returning that love. Getting drunk for the first time. Smell of old books. Looking through black & white photos. Learning your ancestors’ names. Laughter. Hot chocolate. The feeling of getting back up after falling down. First day of college. Last day of college. Acing a job interview. Screwing one up and realizing it’s not the end of the world. Collecting shells. Sunbathing. Listening to someone’s heartbeat. Sound of waves crashing against shore. Rain hitting a tin roof. Heartbreak that turns into heart-healing. Your own house. Decorating that house. Coming home to someone you love. Hearing the sound of their footsteps on the stairs. Honesty of fall leaves. Their colors. Fresh snowfall. Singing favorite songs off-key. Seeing love come into someone’s eyes. Watching your parents look at each other like the very first time. Sunrise. Sunset. The way fire burns into ash. Smell of a campire. Waking up with light spilling over the sheets. Breakfast in bed. Living long enough to watch wounds heal over. Change. Wilderness. Forgiveness. Change some more. More change. Spring. Flowers blooming, opening up like you can. Good memories. Learning how to forget bad ones. Warm feet in a cold bed. Sleeping with the only person you care about. Waking up to their mouth and arms. Smiles that reach all the way to the eyes. Letting go of balloons like dead weight. Floating in water on your back. Skydiving. Risk. Adventure. First C on a test. First A. Favorite teacher. First poem. Last poem. Holidays with family. Roadtrips. Changing the sheets. Your father’s gnarled hands when he grows old. Grandchildren. Children of your own. Their first day of college. Their graduation. Their wedding. Anniversaries. Making daisy chains. Smell of freshly-cut grass. Pride. Feeling good about yourself. Loving what’s in the mirror. Not being afraid anymore. No more heaviness. No more grief. Survival. Picking berries til your fingers are stained dark. Frost on windows. Holding someone without sex. Sex with love. The joy of swearing. Counting the years you’ve lived. Another candle on the birthday cake. Another mark of victory. That bellyache laugh that hurts all over. But hurts so good. Breath freezing in winter. Feeling that breath on your skin. Someone’s eyelashes blinking into your palm. Accomplishment. Self-worth. Love. Triumph. Sitting under willow trees without weeping. Apologies that get accepted. Understanding that comes from forgiveness. First fight. First makeup afterward. Less hurt. More good.

Everything.