(Source: robotmayo, via clocksinthecloset)
(Source: smoketrailss, via clocksinthecloset)
Master.
Aaron Smith
So you’re on your knees? Good. Now die to yourself. To your idea of yourself. Everything you think you are, you’re not. What’s left? Find out. Stop. Stop thinking. You people all want to help someone. Help yourself first, like the airplane. Put on your own mask first. All you hear are your own crazy thoughts like a river of shit running on and on. See your thoughts for what they are. Stop your helping. Stop your planning. Give up! There’s no way out! Not for others, not for you. We are living out here at the end of the road, the end of the Earth in a place called “Paradise”. How’s it going? Perfect? No! You are madder than ever. You are tired? So lie down right here. Be like a cat. Heal yourself. There is no match for the tremendous intelligence of the body. Rest.
(Source: porannarosa, via bohemea)
Christina Hendricks by Kurt Iswarienko
Your heart is like a great river after a long spell of rain, spilling over its banks. All signposts that once stood on the ground are gone, inundated and carried away by that rush of water. And still the rain beats down on the surface of the river. Every time you see a flood like that on the news you tell yourself: That’s it. That’s my heart.
—Haruki Murakami (via forestmilk)
(via clocksinthecloset)
