(Source: the-daily-dicaprio)

Life keeps throwing me curve balls and I don’t even own a bat. At least my dodging skills are improving.
I’m going to enjoy every second, and I’m going to know I’m enjoying it while I’m enjoying it. Most people don’t live; they just race. They are trying to reach some goal far away on the horizon, and in the heat of the going they get so breathless and panting that they lose sight of the beautiful, tranquil country they are passing through; and then the first thing they know, they are old and worn out, and it doesn’t make any difference whether they’ve reached the goal or not.
I’ve come to think that flourishing consists of putting yourself in situations in which you lose self-consciousness and become fused with other people, experiences, or tasks. It happens sometimes when you are lost in a hard challenge, or when an artist or a craftsman becomes one with the brush or the tool. It happens sometimes while you’re playing sports, or listening to music or lost in a story, or to some people when they feel enveloped by God’s love. And it happens most when we connect with other people. I’ve come to think that happiness isn’t really produced by conscious accomplishments. Happiness is a measure of how thickly the unconscious parts of our minds are intertwined with other people and with activities. Happiness is determined by how much information and affection flows through us covertly every day and year.
I asked you to tell me about her and you asked me what I wanted to know and that’s when I knew you didn’t really love her. Because if you loved her then you would’ve told me about how her eyes light up when she laughs and she bites her lip when she’s sad. You would’ve told me about the way her teeth remind you of those glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck on your ceiling when you were little and the way her voice wraps around your bones and keeps you from shaking. You would’ve told me about the tips of her fingers and the way sunshine pours from her mouth. You would’ve told me about how she even looks pretty when she cries and the way she hides behind her hair. You would’ve told me about the way you want to live inside her ribcage and fall asleep in the crook of her neck. You would’ve told me that she tastes like the entire galaxy and she speaks in poetry. You would’ve told me that the sound of her breath while she sleeps is your new favorite song. You would’ve told me about how she’s in your blood and the way she’s got so much love in her veins that if you cut her open, you swear flowers would grow from inside of her. You would’ve told me about the way you love her, like I love you.

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Take it easy, but take it.
misplaying:

indie

misplaying:

indie

(Source: itsadirtylove)

(Source: specialopz)

(Source: flic.kr)