Wanderlust

the fleeting feelings of joy & sadness connected to the constant journey of discovery.
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  • this is where i leave you

    "Please," she says. "Tell me what you’re thinking."

    It’s an absurd request. Our minds, unedited by guilt or shame, are selfish and unkind, and the majority of our thoughts, at any given time, are not for public consumption, because they would either be hurtful or else just make us look like the selfish and unkind bastards that we are. We don’t share our thoughts, we share carefully sanitized, watered-down versions of them, Hollywood adaptations of those thoughts dumbed down for the PG-13 crowd.

    “ April is the cruelest month, breeding
    lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
    memory and desire, stirring
    dull roots with spring rain. ”

    —    T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land (via hellanne)

    (via lavender-forests)

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