(Source: blankrorschach, via highhopesandwanderlust)
Maybe that’s what falling in love is like. Just feeling your way though the darkness until you find something solid to hold onto.
True.
—Awaken by Katie Kacvinsky (via spoor-negen)
(via highhopesandwanderlust)
(via imgTumble)favourite font. hands down.
(Source: spiritualinspiration, via highhopesandwanderlust)
Men and women are limited not by the place of their birth, not by the color of their skin, but by the size of their hope.
—John Johnson (via selfinspiration)
(Source: corona-borealis, via highhopesandwanderlust)
Men and women are limited not by the place of their birth, not by the color of their skin, but by the size of their hope.
—John Johnson (via selfinspiration)
(Source: corona-borealis, via highhopesandwanderlust)
Sometimes, I feel like everything hurts.
All my life, I have been interested in people. When you are three, they are playmates, when you are seven you notice that some people speak different languages, others eat hamburgers and their mamas treat them differently.God might punish you.
At 13, you postulate that human beings are just arrangements of carbon atoms that masquerade as complex neuronal structures which relay what we know as anger or grief. And love is just a biochemical state. What you know as ‘I’ will ultimately be reintegrated after death into a leaf or a piece of coal. There are essentially cells, not souls. (Hell to Hindu conditioning on reincarnation)
Once rationality feels too limited a cage, you dabble in postmodern deconstructivism. You wonder if you are social or submissive, because you inhabit the cultural construct of a female and have inherit your conditioning from social parents. Nothing seems innate but merely contructs of the human mind. On other days you might think that all experience is personal. The reason, I see a chair as a chair is because of my personal history and experience with chair like objects. A woman in Botswana might consider it something entirely different. And then one loud summer night sitting at a communal dinner, you think that a sample of one minute of your thinking will reveal that you am from a collectivist culture and 90% of your meaning making is determined by that factor, even how you form opinions on the friendships between kittens and squirrels.
And then you ask if, in that explosive moment in history when a molecule decided to experiment with being a cell, there a larger intelligence behind this giant leap. God, Spirit, Energy? Something that is not yet confined to a series of symbols in a physics text book and probably will never be.
In fact, it appears that reality is a monstrous undefinable creature and yet if you artfully distill all of these ways of seeing and shed your single chosen lens at a certain point in time, you are closer to the truth than you can ever otherwise hope to be.
(Source: intretorr)
There is no intensity of love or feeling that does not involve the risk of crippling hurt. It is a duty to take this risk, to love and feel without defense or reserve.
—William Burroughs (via theunquotables)
What we call a home is merely any place that succeeds in making more consistently available to us the important truths which the wider world ignores, or which our distracted and irresolute selves have trouble holding on to. As we write, so we build: to keep a record of what matters to us.
—From The Architecture of Happiness by Alain de Botton. (via carpentrix)
