Just a blog.
Thoughts and dreams, wishes and hopes. Love.
These are all things that I find beautiful on some level.

None of what I post on this blog is mine, unless differently stated.
Please tell me if you know where the pictuers are from so I can credit, because the things that I post wich I do not link through to where they're from I do not know where belong as they're simply saved on my computer.

Live your life so it leaves you happy in the end.

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Nicole Andrijevic & Tanya Schultz - Sweet, Sweet Galaxy (2011) - sugar, pigment, polystyrene, wax, modeling clay, paper, plastic, found objects, wire, beads, glitter, and sound


(Source: likeafieldmouse)

04:04 pm, reblogged from Soda Pop by heremotionsickness126,241 notes

(Source: the-merry-iguana)


Inspired: Dresses you’d find in Elsa’s wardrobe. [Haute Couture designs by Elie Saab and Zuhair Murad. Edits by dollyribbon.]

04:08 pm, reblogged from inspiration: by heremotionsickness27,195 notes

03:55 pm, reblogged from WriteWorld by heremotionsickness570 notes

03:47 pm, reblogged from k by heremotionsickness548,703 notes

You fainted and I caught you. It was the first time I’d supported a human. You had such heavy bones. I put myself between you and gravity. Impossible.
Elizabeth Knox, The Vintner’s Luck (via quotes-shape-us)

03:40 pm, reblogged from straight and fast. by heremotionsickness176 notes

When I was younger I would walk early in the morning trying to avoid any soldiers or tanks, so I can open up the library early in the morning, I got the job, without pay of course I was only 12, for the summer full time and part time when school started. The man who owned the place knew I was a good kid, because I guess I rather pile up books than light up cigarettes. I read every single book in that library, perfected my Latin, memorized plays and great poems books long. I often slept there only to be awakened the next day by kids my age teasing me that I was a book worm…. I didn’t care. I’m not saying I had a lot of friends, but I did have friends every book I read was my friend I loved that old library. I left my city and home land when I was 14, two years later fowaz (the librarian) and his library were bombed and burnt to the ground. Books are a weapon. That’s why I read
My father talking about his earlier life growing up in a war zone, hebron, Palestine after I told him he reads too much (via amovible)

02:05 am, reblogged from alway's running by heremotionsickness66 notes

Maybe I was destined to forever fall in love with people I couldn’t have. Maybe there’s a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for me to find them. Waiting to make me feel the same impossibility over and over again.
 Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I’m Home (via romanov-)

(Source: larmoyante)

04:51 pm, reblogged from secrets that sell by heremotionsickness26,425 notes

I stopped telling myself that I’m lost.

I’m not.

I’m on a road with no destination, I’m just driving with hope that I’ll find a place that I like and I’ll stay there.

I’m not lost, I’m on my way.


(via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: emmawilleatstars)

04:46 pm, reblogged from secrets that sell by heremotionsickness95,875 notes

Writing, and plot specifically, can be almost universally defined as people being miserable in interesting ways.
Admin C (via writeworld)

04:43 pm, reblogged from WriteWorld by heremotionsickness866 notes

Sometimes you tell someone to never call you again, and then the phone rings and you hope it’s them. It’s the most twisted logic of all time.
(via kaymillz)

(Source: ryaaano)

03:41 pm, reblogged from  by heremotionsickness126,394 notes