1. This poem makes me so happy

     
  2. Julia(:

     
  3. and folks is smoking anything that’ll burn
    — maya angelou
     
  4. mike rosen/repair shop

    i know that house party had the rest of us
    looking like poorly metered sonnets,
    but you walked in like a love letter from a fourth grader
    mispelled in the most beautiful way possible and
    so earnest

     
  5. this poem is special because it’s happy. its special because it’s about contentedness in small moments. its special because she wrote it for herself. its special because all i want to say after hearing it is thank you.

     
  6. and somewhere in California, a place I once stood is burning.
    — Sarah Kay, forest fires
     
  7. Pep talks I give myself. Chapter One. On Hula Hooping in public.

    Baby. You hella got this. Like I’m serious. Remember that night when you were down by lizards crossing with sam and beyleigh and will and max, and like the conversation wasn’t that interesting and you weren’t enjoying yourself? So you got up and walked over the crooked pebbles, up through the trees past the tents with the lights to family grove deck, where you picked up a hula hoop and just started spinning, barefoot beneath the redwoods, you and your motion, the hula hoop revolving around your motion like all things should.

    remember how you felt that night? The cold air on your bare skin. Days of caz stretched out before and behind you. Free. Not everything in my life is perfect free, you might’ve rather been with other people. But free like you could always find yourself here. In these circles that turn, that originate from your center of gravity, that dance up and down your spine. In touch with your own song. Happy with your own company. Like a dancer. A body in motion.

    We never asked to be tolerated. We call to be seen and experienced as we are. In agitation, transformation, living in motion.

    This is why you hula hoop. Even out of those redwoods, to remember that same rhythm youre still beating. In the backyard or hours to feel alive. This is why you do it.

    Tomorrow, you are sharing that joy with your school community. Not the joy of perfection, but the joy of motion. This is your happy poem. Sharing it with an audience of people with stories and hopes that maybe they could get up there and do that. You like the stage baby. And the stage likes you. The rules change up there, you know. You become beautiful up there, call yourself talent.

     
  8. So I know that you love me. But in a practical way.
    — Sierra Demulder
     
  9. 23:20

    Notes: 7439

    Reblogged from likeafieldmouse

    likeafieldmouse:

Amanda Wachob
     
  10. You know I was trying to decide “what do I have to say?” What do I, as a straight, white, middle class male, have to say? Cuz a lot of people, you know I tell them a rapper and they go “what, you don’t look like a rapper? You shouldn’t be a rapper.”
    That’s bullshit. Cuz everybody has a perspective that’s compelling. It doesn’t mean that I’m inventing stories that don’t exist, I’m telling you what my perspective is, and every human has faced the same universal things: love, loss, feelings of rejection, hopes aspirations, insecurity, anxiety. These things are not limited to certain groups of people. And there’s no reason we can’t speak to each other, regardless of our background, as long as we’re honest about where we’re coming from.
    — George Watsky
     
  11. Sound without shape is static. And you were not born a dead channel. You were born screaming.


    Does music belong to the instrument, or the ears that hear it? If one receives a gift, it belongs to them and not the gift giver so when you tell someone your name, does it still belong to you?

    — ken arkind
     
  12. you are still the only person to whom i’ve lied knowing i was telling the truth.
    — jon sands
     
  13. i remember building volcanoes in the sandbox. i used water to make quicksand pretended it was lava i loved turning that dust into something that could stick. im not so good at putting things together anymore.
    — dylan garity
     
  14. words hold more than definitions i think. they hold memories and breathe and the sound of that need to be heard materializing

     
  15. 11:18 26th Aug 2012

    Notes: 11

    Reblogged from blownoutofdistortion

    You and I are gonna be OK, you know that, right? We may not be as happy as you always dreamed we would be, but for the first time let’s just allow ourselves to be whatever it is we are and that will be better. OK? I think that will be better.
    — Garden State (via blownoutofdistortion)