objects of my affection

“Do you want to know who you are? Don’t ask. Act! Action will delineate and define you.”

—   Thomas Jefferson (via observando)

“Please come to bed and let me see you and feel you.”

—   Ernest Hemingway, from The Garden Of Eden  (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

“You never need to apologize
for how you chose to survive.”

—   Clementine von Radics (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: journalofanobody, via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

“After all those years as a woman hearing ‘not thin enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not this enough, not that enough,’ almost overnight I woke up one morning and thought, ‘I’m enough.’”

—   Anna Quindlen (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: smellslikegirlriot, via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

so-personal:

everything personal

so-personal:

everything personal

(Source: j0hhnn, via travel-while-you-are-young)

explore-everywhere:

lastuli:

Illustrated poetry: ‘Oh rascal children of Gaza’

Rafah-born author and poet Khaled Juma wrote a heartbreaking tribute to the children of the Gaza Strip amidst the missiles striking his hometown. At least 506 Palestinian children have been killed since Israel commenced its latest invasion of Gaza on July 8, 2014

Photograph #1: A Palestinian boy, who fled with his family from their home during Israeli air strikes, bathes his brother at a United Nations-run school in the Jabalya Refugee Camp in the northern Gaza Strip on July 31, 2014. The school is a designated shelter for Palestinians who were displaced by Israel’s offensive. Photo credit: Mohammed Salem

Photograph #2: A Palestinian girl reacts at the scene of an explosion carried out by the Israeli military that killed at least eight children and wounded 40 more in a public garden in Gaza City on July 28, 2014. Photo credit: Finbarr O’Reilly

Photograph #3: A traumatized Palestinian child is comforted by a man arranging care for him in a hospital in Gaza City following an Israeli air strike on July 9, 2014. Photo credit: Momen Faiz

Photograph #4: A Palestinian child pulls out toys from a box at a local market in Gaza City during a temporary ceasefire on August 6, 2014. Palestinian and Israeli delegations met in Cairo with Hamas demanding an end to the siege on Gaza and Israel demanding a demilitarization of the territory. Photo credit: Lefteris Pitarakis

Photograph #5: A Palestinian boy sleeps at a United Nations-run school in Gaza City on July 14, 2014, after fleeing with his family from their home in Beit Lahya. Photo credit: Mohammed Salem

Photograph #6: Doctors tend to injured children while a young girl sitting on her mother’s lap cries at a hospital in Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip on August 4, 2014. Photo credit: Eyad El Baba

Photograph #7: A Palestinian girl cries while being treated at a hospital in Beit Lahya following after sustaining injuries from an Israeli air strike on a United Nations school in the Jabalya Refugee Camp on July 30, 2014. Photo credit: Khalil Hamra

Photograph #8: Two Palestinians girls celebrate the first day of Eid Al-Fitr on the grounds of a United Nations school in the Jabalya Refugee Camp in the northern Gaza Strip on July 28, 2014. Their families are among the dozens that have fled their homes and sought refuge in the school. Normally, Muslim families in Palestine celebrate Eid Al-Fitr by visiting one another and gifting children with new clothes and shoes. Photo credit: Khalil Hamra

Photograph #9: One-and-a-half year old Razel Netzlream was killed after she was fatally hit by shrapnel from an Israeli air strike on an adjacent home the previous day. Her father carries her body to the funeral in Khan Younis on July 18, 2014. Photo credit: Alessio Romenzi

Photograph 10: A portrait of Shahed Quishta, 8, is fixed to a pillar in her home in Beit Lahya on August 16, 2014, after an Israeli tank fired a shell into the living room. She was killed on July 22, 2014. Photo credit: Khalil Hamra

i’m just sitting here crying at my desk at work over this.


An 87 Year Old College Student Named Rose
 The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know.  I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned round to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me  with a smile that lit up her entire being.  She said, “Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I’m eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?” I laughed and enthusiastically responded, “Of course you may!” and she gave me a giant squeeze.  “Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?” I asked. She jokingly replied, “I’m here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids…” “No seriously,” I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age. “I always dreamed of having a college education and now I’m getting one!” she told me. After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.We became instant friends. Every day for the  next three months, we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this “time machine”  as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.  Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and  she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.  At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us. She was  introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, “I’m sorry I’m so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I’ll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell  you what I know.” As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, “We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop  playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day.  You’ve got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don’t even know it!There is a huge difference between growing  older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.  Anybody can grow older. That doesn’t take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change.  Have no regrets. The elderly usually don’t have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those  with regrets.” She concluded her speech by courageously singing “The Rose.” She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives. At the year’s end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died  peacefully in her sleep. Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it’s  never too late to be all you can possibly be .When you finish reading this, please send this peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they’ll really enjoy it! These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE. REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS  OPTIONAL. We make a Living by what we get, We make a Life by what we give.

An 87 Year Old College Student Named Rose


The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know.
I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned round to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me
with a smile that lit up her entire being.

She said, “Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I’m eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?”

I laughed and enthusiastically responded, “Of course you may!” and she gave me a giant squeeze.

“Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?” I asked.

She jokingly replied, “I’m here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids…”

“No seriously,” I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.

“I always dreamed of having a college education and now I’m getting one!” she told me.

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.We became instant friends. Every day for the
next three months, we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this “time machine”
as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and
she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us. She was
introduced and stepped up to the podium.

As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, “I’m sorry I’m so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I’ll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell
you what I know.”

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, “We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop
playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day.

You’ve got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die.
We have so many people walking around who are dead and don’t even know it!There is a huge difference between growing
older and growing up.

If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old.

If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.

Anybody can grow older. That doesn’t take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change.
Have no regrets.

The elderly usually don’t have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those
with regrets.”

She concluded her speech by courageously singing “The Rose.”

She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.

At the year’s end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died
peacefully in her sleep.

Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it’s
never too late to be all you can possibly be .When you finish reading this, please send this peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they’ll really enjoy it!

These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.

REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS
OPTIONAL.

We make a Living by what we get, We make a Life by what we give.

(Source: michiamocristina, via itwasagienger)

My mom said, you put so much of yourself online. These strangers know too much about you. Stop giving to these people. Keep your secrets to yourself. Then they’ll mean more when you tell them.

My aunt said, girls, you want to keep some parts of yourself hidden. Don’t go out showing too much skin. Boys don’t want to marry girls who they’ve already seen. I was thirteen, sitting quietly in a knee length dress that had been picked out for me, as I listened to women around me chat about modesty. My cousin touched my covered shoulder and laughed, Why would someone buy the cake if they could get it for free?

Three years later, I sat in the back of his parent’s car, topless and covered in his sweat. I was steaming up the windows by spilling my guts. I told him stories about sucking in the scenery from an airplane window before I moved. I told him about running out the back door at a party and shakily skate boarding to a golf course to breathe. I told him about spending an afternoon rolling down a grass hill, looking for a way to waste time. I was trying to tell him I loved him without saying it outright. He looked out the window, nodded at me, and said, “How many others know these things about you? I mean, you’re sweet, but are these things you’re just telling me?”

I have been taught to save parts of myself for others. My thoughts, they say, mean more when they are unvocalized. My body, I’ve been taught, is a greater gift when I keep it hidden away. I am better swallowed, kept apart, not listened to, not shared, not publicized, stuck in the shadows, invisible, forgotten. I have learned to sit down, stay quiet, and always cross my legs. I have learned how to speak only when spoken to. I know how to be silent. I know how to be sweet. I have had extensive lessons in both. But I do not know how to be me.

—   Saving Myself | Lora Mathis (via lora-mathis)

(via whisperingbones)

“When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.”

—   W. B. Yeats, “When You Are Old” (from The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats, Scribner, 1996)

(Source: gammasandgerunds)

“What can be explained is not poetry.”

—   W. B. Yeats (via letteratura-litterature)

“I feel such a creative force in me: I am convinced that there will be a time when, let us say, I will make something good every day , on a regular basis….I am doing my very best to make every effort because I am longing so much to make beautiful things. But beautiful things mean painstaking work, disappointment, and perseverance.”

—   Vincent van Gogh (via quotes-shape-us)

“All is an emotional chaos. Poetry and poetry alone has saved my life.”

—   Anne Sexton, from A Self-Portrait In Letters (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via whisperingbones)

“In the midst of happiness or despair
in sorrow or in joy
in pleasure or in pain:
Do what is right and you will be at peace.”

—   Jess Rothenberg (via observando)
psycho-delic-cunt:

fearlings:

foobar137:

The good thing about being stuck on the Jungle Cruise: how often do you get to do a panorama of the elephant bathing pool?

click the picture

i’m so glad i did

psycho-delic-cunt:

fearlings:

foobar137:

The good thing about being stuck on the Jungle Cruise: how often do you get to do a panorama of the elephant bathing pool?

click the picture

i’m so glad i did

(via madfernoel)