those halcyon days
a mishmash, a hodgepodge, of pretty people, of pretty things, of careless tongues and tired feet.
Reblogged from radleys
Elliðaey, Iceland
I think that actually this is what Paradise probably looks like.
(Source: terrestrial-noesis)
late, swinging into summer
listening to 80s synth pop from the Drive soundtrack, studying HIV and immunology, drinking tea…wishing that I was out driving through the hazy streets of philadelphia, underneath the golden glow of streetlamps, hand on faded steering wheel, bass pounding from the scratchy stereo, skin sticky sweet from summer night breezes.
It’s getting harder to concentrate when I miss home. Home being Philadelphia, Ann Arbor, China, Florence, Alaska…the problem is that I grow so attached so easily to so many different places. How quickly they gather roots in my heart. I long for places with the expectation, the promise, of something different, of unexplored streets and alleys, of the feeling, the catch in the throat, before you turn a corner. That is, of anticipation.
"I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind and that my cheek just fits the depression in your shoulder."
Reblogged from musingsinfemininity
Zelda Fitzgerald (via musingsinfemininity)
i’ve probably reblogged this before, but i don’t care god bless the fitzgeralds.
(Source: sweetannasour)
