youmakenosense
Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?

We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.

They can keep their heaven. When I die, I’d sooner go to Middle-Earth.

- George R.R. Martin  (via indisposablehero)

This is one of the most beautiful quotes I think I have ever read. I love it, and I will treasure it for my entire life.

(via draodoir-mna)

mochente
explore-blog

We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be. The only problem is that there is also so much other stuff, typically fixations with how people perceive us, how to get more of the things that we think will make us happy, and with keeping our weight down. So the real issue is how do we gently stop being who we aren’t? How do we relieve ourselves of the false fronts of people-pleasing and affectation, the obsessive need for power and security, the backpack of old pain, and the psychic Spanx that keeps us smaller and contained?

Here’s how I became myself: mess, failure, mistakes, disappointments, and extensive reading; limbo, indecision, setbacks, addiction, public embarrassment, and endless conversations with my best women friends; the loss of people without whom I could not live, the loss of pets that left me reeling, dizzying betrayals but much greater loyalty, and overall, choosing as my motto William Blake’s line that we are here to learn to endure the beams of love.

il-tenore-regina
il-tenore-regina:

labrownrecluse:

chanclazo:

Beckie: I’m getting a strong floral note with a distinct buttery finish
Sandra: Mexican wines sure have come a long way. We should tour Baja.
Joanna: I don’t know, Beckie, I’m getting ashen qualities. I don’t think the barrels were aged.
Nadine: I think this tastes like soap. 

*Sandra keels over and starts foaming at the mouth*
Joanna: Ugh how gauche!
Nadine: Well she’s always been a lush you know

LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING KILL ME OMGGG!!!!!

il-tenore-regina:

labrownrecluse:

chanclazo:

Beckie: I’m getting a strong floral note with a distinct buttery finish

SandraMexican wines sure have come a long way. We should tour Baja.

Joanna: I don’t know, Beckie, I’m getting ashen qualities. I don’t think the barrels were aged.

Nadine: I think this tastes like soap. 

*Sandra keels over and starts foaming at the mouth*

Joanna: Ugh how gauche!

Nadine: Well she’s always been a lush you know

LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING KILL ME OMGGG!!!!!