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food-is-glorious:

advicefromadad:

Stop The Beauty Madness is a series of 25 advertisements branded with honest messages that highlight the true “madness” involved in creating and meeting beauty standards. Rice, an author and the founder of Be Who You Are Productions, started the campaign to challenge an internalized belief that a woman’s beauty determines her value.

Have a good look here- X

these are beautiful

(via taxdollars)

02:26 pm, BY darlingdriver[43,165 notes]

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asylum-art:

Stitch Work by Hillary Fayle

(via supreme---thunder)

05:35 pm, BY darlingdriver[31,361 notes]

quote

Six simple rituals:

1. Drink a glass of water when you wake up. Your body loses water while you sleep, so you’re naturally dehydrated in the morning. A glass of water when you wake helps start your day fresh.

2. Define your top 3. Every morning ask yourself, “What are the top three most important tasks that I will complete today?” Prioritizes your day accordingly and don’t sleep until the Top 3 are complete.

3. The 50/10 Rule. Solo-task and do more faster by working in 50/10 increments. Use a timer to work for 50 minutes on only one important task with 10 minute breaks in between. Spend your 10 minutes getting away from your desk, going outside, calling friends, meditating, or grabbing a glass of water.

4. Move and sweat daily. Regular movement keeps us healthy and alert. It boosts energy and mood, and relieves stress.

5. Express gratitude. Gratitude fosters happiness. Each morning, think of at least five things you’re thankful for. In times of stress, pause and reflect on these things.

6. Reflect daily. Bring closure to your day through 10 minutes of reflection. Asks yourself, “What went well?” and “What needs improvement?”


01:07 am, BY darlingdriver[104,329 notes]

quote
I read selections from my Intro to Philosophy textbook in the basement of my dorm in between loads of laundry, which I had to wring out over a drain in the floor before tossing them in the dryer. I remember rushing through my assigned chapters of Moby-Dick every Sunday night before class, when I would meet with three other students and a professor to discuss symbolism. And I remember my horror when I realized exactly how long “Song of Myself” was at two in the morning. But somehow that horror is gone now, and all that’s left is the quiet joy that came from spending so much time interacting with books I otherwise might never have opened.

11:28 pm, BY darlingdriver[76 notes]

audio

lonelyheartsdeathmetal:

James Blake - “Retrograde”

You’re on your own
In a world you’ve grown
Few more years to go,
Don’t let the hurdle fall
So be the girl you loved,
Be the girl you loved

I’ll wait
So show me why you’re strong
Ignore everybody else,
We’re alone now
I’ll wait
So show me why you’re strong
Ignore everybody else,
We’re alone now

Suddenly, I’m hit
Is this darkness of the dawn?
And your friends are gone
And your friends won’t come
So show me where you fit
So show me where you fit

I’ll wait
So show me why you’re strong
Ignore everybody else,
We’re alone now (We’re alone now)
(We’re alone now)

Suddenly, I’m hit
Is this darkness of the dawn?
And your friends are gone
And your friends won’t come
So show me where you fit
So show me where you fit

04:32 pm, BY darlingdriver[16 notes]

picture HD

Ask me how deep the ocean is.
Shut up.

Ask me how deep the ocean is.

Shut up.

(Source: prewant, via rezentment)

03:08 pm, BY darlingdriver[38,685 notes]

Text
The Boot Theory — Richard Siken

earlkonig:

A man walks into a bar and says:
                                                Take my wife–please.
                                                                                    So you do.
            You take her out into the rain and you fall in love with her
                                                and she leaves you and you’re desolate.
You’re on your back in your undershirt, a broken man
                        on an ugly bedspread, staring at the water stains
                                                                                                on the ceiling.
                  And you can hear the man in the apartment above you
                                    taking off his shoes.
You hear the first boot hit the floor and you’re looking up,
                                                                                    you’re waiting
            because you thought it would follow, you thought there would be
                        some logic, perhaps, something to pull it all together
                  but here we are in the weeds again,
                                                                                         here we are
in the bowels of the thing: your world doesn’t make sense.
                        And then the second boot falls.
                                                            And then a third, a fourth, a fifth.

            A man walks into a bar and says:
                                                Take my wife–please.
                                                                        But you take him instead.
You take him home, and you make him a cheese sandwich,
            and you try to get his shoes off, but he kicks you
                                                                              and he keeps kicking you.
            You swallow a bottle of sleeping pills but they don’t work.
                        Boots continue to fall to the floor
                                                                        in the apartment above you.
You go to work the next day pretending nothing happened.
            Your co-workers ask
                                    if everything’s okay and you tell them
                                                                                    you’re just tired.
            And you’re trying to smile. And they’re trying to smile.

A man walks into a bar, you this time, and says:
                                    Make it a double.
            A man walks into a bar, you this time, and says:
                                                                                 Walk a mile in my shoes.
A man walks into a convenience store, still you, saying:
                                    I only wanted something simple, something generic…
            But the clerk tells you to buy something or get out.
A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river
                        but then he’s still left
with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away
                                                      but then he’s still left with his hands.

(Source: joycecarolgoats, via gyzym)

09:11 pm, BY darlingdriver[429 notes]

photoset

  by Calvin Seibert

artist  manages to construct nearly impossible shapes from one of the world’s most delicate mediums. While Colossal has seen its fair share of art made with sand I’ve never seen anything so perfectly angular and geometric

(Source: f-l-e-u-r-d-e-l-y-s, via bifurism)

05:42 pm, BY darlingdriver[19,055 notes]

photoset

likeafieldmouse:

T.S. Eliot - The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (fragments)

(via softshinythings)

07:34 pm, BY darlingdriver[3,683 notes]

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ladycrappo:

The Secret Garden. Business in front, party in back.

(via softshinythings)

02:44 am, BY darlingdriver[54,387 notes]