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Danse.

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And that’s why I have to go back to so many places there to find myself and constantly examine myself with no witness but the moon and then whistle with joy, ambling over rocks and clods of earth, with no task but to live, with no family but the road.

Pablo Neruda (via m-aitri)

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It’s never a bad time for a Miyazaki food gif.

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Chute Vauréal by Simon Massicotte on Flickr.

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"What are the flowers for?" “My friend gave them to me to cheer me up.” “Why did you need cheering up?” “It’s been a rough week for several reasons. It began with me crying while reading a poem in front of a bunch of people.” “What was the poem about?” “It was about my best friend attempting suicide in my house, then me having an abortion a few years later, then that same friend successfully committing suicide, then me getting pregnant. It’s sort of my reflection on the cyclical nature of life. And how we are a lot more connected than we understand or admit. The poem is titled: ‘I realized last night that, for the first time in my life, I am finally really willing to be an organ donor.’

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Sweet sixteen One summer afternoon, about out the door for family dinner at Outback Steakhouse. Went to check on my bestie Jenie, staying with me for the summer, kicked out of her own house again, one more time. I had a feeling. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? I said, peeking into the top bunk of my little brothers bed. No response. Motionless, unconscious. I ran to my auntie, doctor frances, downstairs. “She’ll be okay,” said doctor frances. We called the ambulance anyway. “She’ll be okay, “said doctor frances, again, after they wheeled Jenie away on a stretcher. Jenie went to icu, had her stomach pumped, went to rehab after that.

We pretty much pretended nothing had happened.

Time passed. Lots of things happened.

One winter afternoon, the ripe age of 22, my mom dropped me off at a portland clinic, 10th floor of an office building. “babies are expensive,” my single-father boyfriend had said. i took his word for it, and took the valium and the vicodin from the nurse, listened to them read me quotes from other girls in my condition about how happy they were with their choice. I lied back on the table, sucked in the nitrous greedily as the doctor sucked out my “unwanted growth,” as they called it. “youre so calm, ” the doctor said to me. They sent me to a “recovery room”- and lying in the bed, looking at the poster of the Eiffel Tower at sunset on the wall above me, and the rainy grey oregon sunset sky out the window beyond, I knew I had just given away any good karma I had gained by saving my best friend’s life 6 years before.

A January evening in Istanbul, on the couch, totally stoned on afghani hash with my second Turkish boyfriend, I picked up a phone call from old friend Melinda, now married with 2 kids in Spokane Washington. She sounded far away. I knew something was weird—we hadn’t talked in years. “Dane went back to Vegas for a few days to finish a job,” she began. Dane, Jennie’s high school crush , and new husband. “Jenie stayed in portland, in their new house with their two dogs. When her dad went over to say hi, check on her, he found her in the garage, in the front seat of her 4 runner. It had stopped running by then— run out of gas. The dogs are okay, though.” I couldn’t afford to fly back for the funeral. My little brother stood in my stead, scattered some flowers on her casket.

And now, here I am at 31, 37 and a half weeks pregnant. Round 2. from march 4th onward, This new life inside me, a whole second self, spontaneously generating, it seems, organizing itself around some miracle principles. I felt it from the very beginning, the very moment of first meiosis. Really, like a veil dropped, or lifted, or something. I was walking across a field at a spa outside Poughkeepsie and I felt the shift. It was wild. Life is wild. Death is something else.

So I’d like to take this opportunity to declare I’m finally willing to be an organ donor. I never was before. but i can surely say if it comes down to it I am ready to give the pieces of me to others. Take my kidneys, take my heart, take my myopic eyes

The lines around the self, the borders between you and me aren’t as obvious as they may seem

We are all connected. Some more obviously than others

So please, Take what you can from me Bury the rest at sea, someday

It all comes back around eventually.

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Maquis corse on Flickr.

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Heaven be praised for solitude! I am alone now. Let me cast and throw away this veil of being, this cloud that changes with the last breath, night and day, and all night and day. Let me be alone.

Virginia Woolf, from The Waves  (via ciciross)

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Yew by Dragan* on Flickr.

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"I swing between procrastination and being really thorough so either way things aren’t getting done quickly."

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Virginia Frances Sterrett

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walter white + funny moments

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148 by gwagwa on Flickr.

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There’s traffic, and the bus runs slow enough to read every crack in Brockley Cross Supermarket Video Store twenty times before we pull away. I am going home to be held in something I could not seem to find here; the hopes we hide: the dreams. I wish there were more I could have said to try and save you. More I could have done to push back the clouds before the storm. As I step down the cold rushes at my hands like a sea breeze calling me home. By the time I reach for the front door I will have chilblains. We break our eyes and pretend to check the trains in order to secretly stare at the sky. I sit opposite a woman who jots notes in her diary under ‘tomorrow’, and yet glances out of the window as if yearning for the dead dreams we leave behind. Our breath fogs the glass and our shaking hands match our fears of running out of time. You look like sometimes, your thoughts don’t feel worthy of capital letters. I have never been so alive.

Finn Butler, “Being” (via finnualabutler)

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Atheris hispida also known as the Hairy Bush Viper, or Rough-scaled Tree Viper. If you don’t think these guys are cute, you’re wrong