reverie, altruism & nostalgia.

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #369 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text Below For Tired Eyes:
Can you see these bones and imagine them as the boardsthat held this old house together? Can you lookclosely through these eyes and see the glass thatused to hold out the cold? The curtains, tatteredbut still dancing in the breeze that leaks through?Can you make out the outline of your own hand in the darknessinside me? I wait for you to turn on the lightand paint the shadows out of these corners. There are times I swear if I shut tight my doorsand lock the windows against the silence, I can justbarely make out the sound of your footstepsor the echo of your laughter down my hallways.Have you felt me wonder about what purpose a lock wouldserve if the handles are broken? What use is a doorif there aren’t feet to walk through it?I am empty and my foundation is sighing with the weightof all the life being lived outside my walls. StillI stand and wait. The heat stays on and the bedremains ready and I will always smell like home.No matter how long you are away, no matter whatyou see and what other floors your bare feet findthemselves walking across, no matter how many momentsare spent shaking against the winds and counting theraindrops on my rooftop, no matter how the plants thatlive between these walls wither and stretch for the sunlightthat forgets to come, I will always be here, as I’vealways been here. You do not need to curl your hand intoa fist and you will never need to knock. I will let thewind blow through me and pull the door wide openin reverence to your presence on my porch again. Bones as boards and whispers as blood and if thesewalls could talk they wouldn’t whisper at all, they’d screamand weep and laugh and throw air out of their lungslike they’ve no taste for it at all. They’d tellstories, our stories and they’d tell them to anyoneand no one and the ghosts that float by outsidein the stillness before morning officially begins.Do you miss me, these humble bones and rickety rooftops,this sighing foundation and leaf covered grass? Know thatI miss you and scared to realize just how much a homebecomes a house when you’re not sleeping inside it.I am here and waiting because the very opposite is evenmore abundantly true.I am an empty house, and I am waiting for youto come back home.-Tyler Knott Gregson-

Mar
21 I love, because my love is not dependent on the object of love. My love is dependent on my state of being. So whether the other person changes, becomes different, friend turns into a foe, does not matter, because my love was never dependent on the other person. My love is my state of being. I simply love.
By Osho (via loveyourchaos)
(Source: foundinspirationmovingforward, via olivia-ross)

1,936 notes

Feb
09

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03

Feb
01

39 plays

Cause she’s just like the weather, can’t hold her together

Born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow

Cause it’s burning through the bloodline

It’s coming through the family tree

Rolling in the landscape, darling, in between you and me

15 notes

Jan
27

evanthompsonphotography:

San Francisco I could never leave you | Evan Thompson Photography

Jan
21

Jan
20

95,176 notes

Jan
20

lyshaeskro:

thatkindofwoman:

Was weeping 45 seconds into this.

All of my tears have been spilled watching this video.

(Source: cliterallysame)

40,511 notes

Jan
18

813 notes

Jan
17

inoperant:

through a hasselblad’s eyes (by manyfires)