She couldn't hold on to it and make sure it never changed.

I think she was afraid to love sometimes. I think it scared her. She was the type to like things that are concrete, like the ocean. Something you could point to and know what it was… And I think that’s why she struggled with love. She couldn't touch it. She couldn't hold on to it and make sure it never changed.

The Dead-Tossed Waves, Carrie Ryan

It's All Matter

We're all the same
And all so very different
Divine by design
It all intertwines
Ain't nothing new
But we always changing
Moving
Still water's soft
Yet so hard

So what is love?
What is it?
What's is love, what is it?
Cool on the outside
Hot in the middle
Cool on the outside
Hot in the middle
You ain't even gotta try
All you gotta do is realize
You ain't even gotta try
All you gotta do is realize
Eh, it's all matter

Oh one great big small thing
Like pollen in the sping breeze
A spec of dust in this vast universe
Just like a rain drop
Dropped in the sea of consciousness
It's all matter
Eh, it's all matter

Celestial Dynamics

so beautiful.

(via)

creating oneself endlessly

for a conscious being, to exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.

by Henri Bergson (via)

updates

diz que actualizei o meu portfolio e a minha barra de ligações aqui do blog

criei um instagram

actualizei as minhas playlists no youtube (porque não tenho mais nada que fazer)

e espero em breve ter tudo preparado para finalmente ter a minha loja no society6 a funcionar.

já agora, apelo a quem usa o spotify que me adicione porque aquilo por lá está muito triste e singelo.

If I had to define myself?

I'd walk out the door wihout a word.
I don't define myself.

by Luis Buñuel

Strange Flowers

by Olaf Hajek

It is really a matter of ending this silence and solitude, of breathing and stretching one's arms again.

I'm not an abstractionist. I'm not interested in the relationship of color or form or anything else. I'm interested only in expressing basic human emotions: tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on.

by Mark Rothko

i want Shields B-Sides now!

healing the rupture

Fiction and poetry are doses, they’re medicines. And what they heal is the rupture reality makes on the imagination.

by Jeanette Winterson (via)

por onde deambulei esta passada quinzena

note to self: editar uma mixtape com as músicas que ouvi repetidamente este verão.