one thousand paper cranes

truth / lies


i bought broccoli on saturday morning at the community market. that night i had a dream that millie ate all of it.


ahhhh! i want these so bad!


ahhhh! i want these so bad!

(Source: i-z-u-n-a)


Parabolas (etc.) from Everynone on Vimeo.

Of course there’s a such thing as love. Everything is made of love. But, I think what there’s no such thing as is the love that other people tell you about, the love that you hear about from movies, or from songs, or from your friends or from your parents. You know, you can take what you want and leave the rest from those notions of love but there’s no love except for the one that you feel for yourself and it’s different for everyone.
- Joseph Gordon-Levitt (via fevenaraya )

(Source: quote-book, via wavydavydali-deactivated2012122)


    Ever since i was little, I’ve had incredibly strange and vivid dreams… almost every night. I’ve decided to start documenting these dreams here. As a means not to forget, but also to share with whosoever may wish to read. 

Feel free to post your interpretations.

   Last night was somewhat bizarre. I was myslef, but older. The entire dream was weighted with an intangibly heavy feeling. I was in an old house in the middle of an open field full of yellow wildflowers, and I was taking care of somewhere around 10 children. All of their faces were blurred, impossible to make out any detail. Except for the face of one child. It was my little brother, but younger. I knew it was him, but he didn’t feel like my little brother. He felt distant. I loved him, but only in the same way as I loved any of the other nine children. 

I was leading all of the kids through the field. The girls were picking flowers, and the boys were pushing each other down in the tall grass. But my brother was walking right next to me; he was carrying a small stuffed bunny rabbit, and holding it at his side, dangling by one ear. 

Suddenly the sky became dark. I knew immediately that this was a tornado. I was frantic. Trying to get all of the children back into the house, pleading with them to stop their games and hurry.

The next thing I can remember, we were all in the basement of the house. My little brother was crying.

               "We have to go back!", he said.

He had left his rabbit somewhere out in the field. It was raining now. I could hear the pounding on the roof. Every window upstairs was shaking as if at any given moment it might shatter. I told him no. We had to stay down in the basement. That was the only place we could be safe. But he kept crying. His tears hurt my heart, and I decided to retrieve it. I begged all of the children to stay in the basement. But despite my orders, my little brother followed me outside.

Next I was out in the field. But the sky was clear. Bright. Not a single cloud. After a few moments of searching, I found the rabbit. But when I bent down to pick it up it was dry, as was the grass. As if it had never rained. As if there had been no storm.

Confused, I walked back toward the house. My brother was sitting on a bench I had never seen before with an old woman I had never seen before. She was angry with me. She began to yell.
       "You didn’t do this for him. You only did this for yourself."

I started crying.
                   I woke up and my eyes were wet.




(via theearthlaughs)