as weightless as a feather
[Look at the sky. It's not dark and black and without character. The black is, in fact deep blue. And over there: lighter blue and blowing through the blues and blackness the winds swirling through the air and then shining, burning, bursting through: the stars!
And you see how they roar their light. Everywhere we look, the complex magic of nature blazes before our eyes.]
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what a wonderful Lowe
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(Source: decaying-smiles)
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(Source: dizzysheep)
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(Source: fashion-click)
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(Source: animatelife, via halesyeah)
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(Source: fatgirl2thingirl, via veganskinnybitch)
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But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drink, the very air I breathe, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning.
— Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (via selfinspiration)(Source: unchangedexpressions, via selfinspiration)
