This aerial photo shows boats in the Chabaish marsh in the Maysan province of southern Iraq,on January 7, 2017. (Nabil al-Jurani/AP)
A Hindu devotee is covered in colored powder as he stands outside a temple during the religious festival of Holi in Vrindavan, Uttar Pradesh, India, on March 8, 2017. (Cathal McNaughton/Reuters)
Dedicated to him.. to that one who wonders if I'm writing about him. Yes, I am, and I don't think i'll ever be finished writing about you. You know that when it comes to talking about my feelings, I'm not the best at it, but I know a lot more than you think and I know that you care much more than you show. I hope you were pained like I was when you left my hand bleeding after your touch. I hope you miss me like i'm always missing you. Oh, I'm sick of you, like you're sick of yourself too. I think you're so special, It's sad that I can't describe you exactly except to say that you're terrifyingly beautiful and I'm not even ready to admit how much you mean to me. I wonder how long I can go without telling you I need you because..I can't have you. I just wanna hold your hand again and go to places that are hard to go to and impossible to get out of.
A gardener picks a bouquet of flowers. Arghandab River Valley. Afghanistan. November 2013. Photo by Casey Johnson.
violentwavesofemotion-deactivat
The light itself was bleeding.
George Seferis, from a journal entry featured in A Poet’s Journal; Days of 1945 - 1951 (via stoicremains)
wordsnquotes
And you have fixed my life – however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me.
Wilfred Owen, “Letter to Siegfried Sassoon,” 5 November 1917 (via wordsnquotes)
Source: wordsnquotes.com
Cycled down to Lady’s Bay and found the most unbelievable tree hanging over the water. Hanging on for dear life.