stella pulveris
When you transform your mind, everything you experience is transformed. — Mingyur Rinpoche (via seedsofwisdom)
One day, you’re 17 and you’re planning for someday. And then quietly, without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life. — (via dyssomniac)

(Source: voguelovesme, via snail-acacia)

I used to feel so alone in the city. All those gazillions of people and then me, on the outside. Because how do you meet a new person? I was very stunned by this for many years. And then i realized, you just say, “Hi.” They may ignore you. Or you may marry them. And that possibility is worth that one word. — Augusten Burroughs (via larmoyante)

(Source: larmoyante, via snail-acacia)


I want to inhale the stars. Breathe in so the star-speckled air fills my lungs and coats the insides of my ribs. I want to swallow the clouds, I want to choke on the feathers they have held. I want to exhale the moon, blowing out bits of celestial ruin than fall back into the sky like heavy raven hearts.

(Source: inkywings, via snail-acacia)

I wish I could be more. — (Six Word Story)

(Source: readandburn, via fight-0ff-yourdem0ns)

Here’s to the security guards who maybe had a degree in another land. Here’s to the manicurist who had to leave her family to come here, painting the nails, scrubbing the feet of strangers. Here’s to the janitors who don’t even fucking understand English yet work hard despite it all. Here’s to the fast food workers who work hard to see their family smile. Here’s to the laundry man at the Marriott who told me with the sparkle in his eyes how he was an engineer in Peru. Here’s to the bus driver, the Turkish Sufi who almost danced when I quoted Rumi. Here’s to the harvesters who live in fear of being deported for coming here to open the road for their future generation. Here’s to the taxi drivers from Nigeria, Ghana, Egypt and India who gossip amongst themselves. Here is to them waking up at 4am, calling home to hear the voices of their loved ones. Here is to their children, to the children who despite it all become artists, writers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists and rebels. Here’s to Western Union and Money Gram. For never forgetting home. Here’s to their children who carry the heartbeats of their motherland and even in sleep, speak with pride about their fathers. Keep on. —

Immigrants. First generation.

Ijeoma Umebinyuo.

(via theijeoma)

(via arabellesicardi)

Which do you want: the pain of staying where you are, or the pain of growth? — Judith Hanson Lasater  (via cocolifestyle)

(Source: alllways, via howtonotbesad)

(Source: makeartmakeart, via snail-acacia)

For a seed to achieve it´s greatest expression,
it must come completely undone. The shell cracks,
it´s insides come out and everything changes.
To someone who doesn´t understand growth,
it would look like complete destruction. — Cynthia Occelli (via growthemedicine)

(via arabellesicardi)


wet dream: being financially secure with a career i enjoy

(via firstginger)