Filed under: Man Candy, Touching | Tags: Babest Babe, John Lennon, RIP, Tribute
I wore my John Lennon button all day today in remembrance of the babest babe in music. This is a picture of me today…wearing the button, you know? It’s one of my favorite photos of him. He’s just a baby!
P.S. I know I should be writing inspiring words, thoughtful questions and valid points ^^^ (see what I did there? With the points? – hee haw) in some of these posts, but I just can’t find the time, okay? My mind certainly has a lot to unload so hopefully I will do so soon. Until then, photos now, life updates later. Story of my life? Yes.
Filed under: Gush Fest, Heart, Song Of The Day, Touching, Video | Tags: Efterklang, Natalie, Sweetness
Filed under: Film, Gush Fest, Heart, Oh, Touching | Tags: 1070's Film, A Love Story, Swedish Film, Wishes
Filed under: Heart, Music, Oh, Song Of The Day, Touching | Tags: epic acting, FEELINGS
Filed under: Gush Fest, Heart, Music, Oh, Song Of The Day, Sweet Things, Touching
Snow lies all around
There’s no sense of doubt
You are the only one
To keep me sane when all is wrong
Oh my heart
Waits in winter now
Deep in every dream
Though you’re far from me
There in the deepest snow
I only wanted you to know
Oh my heart
Waits in winter now
Falling quietly
There reminding me
Though it’s just a dream
You’re closer than you’ve ever been
Oh my heart waits in winter now
See Also:
This song has proven to be my Autumn’s Anthem 2009
“I beg you…to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer…”
— Rainer Marie Rilke
The shape of her soul is a square.
She knows this to be the case
because she often feels its corners
pressing sharp against the bone
just under her shoulder blades
and across the wings of her hips.
At one time, when she was younger,
she had hoped that it might be a cube,
but the years have worked to dispel
this illusion of space, so that now
she understands: it is a simple plane,
a shape with surface, but no volume—
a window without a building, an eye
without a mind.
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