One cannot always tell what it is that keeps us shut in, confines us, seems to bury us, but still one feels certain barriers, certain gates, certain walls. is all this imagination, fantasy? I do not think so. And then one asks: My God! Is it for long, is it for ever, is it for eternity? Do you know what frees one from this captivity? It is very deep serious affection. Being friends, being brothers, love, that is what opens the prison by supreme power, by some magic force.
Vincent Van Gogh, letter to his brother, July 1880 (via cereal-chiller)
I find there are a great many things I simply cannot say.
Virginia Woolf, from The Voyage Out (via violentwavesofemotion)
gratefully-dabbed:

headhiigh:

experimentwithyourconsciousness:

delta9cloud:

The amount of things cannabis can do for us is unreal

We have to inform the world

Yet tobacco is legal and cannabis is not

^^

gratefully-dabbed:

headhiigh:

experimentwithyourconsciousness:

delta9cloud:

The amount of things cannabis can do for us is unreal

We have to inform the world

Yet tobacco is legal and cannabis is not

^^

found-liquorstore-and-drank-itt:

i hope this woman lives forever

I construct my memories with my present. I am lost, abandoned in the present. I try in vain to rejoin the past: I cannot escape.
Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea  (via whyallcaps)
You need someone who goes out of their way to make it obvious that they want you in their life.
Unknown  (via ladyofanaturalstate)
mandisco:

Chris Benoit and Eddie Guerrero

mandisco:

Chris Benoit and Eddie Guerrero