Posts on Twitter:

LOLOL!!! Truth ✌🏻



















I want to be like a sunflower; so even on the darkest days I will find the sunlight ©️ER ,










"Lo importante no es mantenerse vivo sino mantenerse humano" hace 70 años, nos dejó el gran escritor y periodista británico.




"If I am not for myself, who will be for me? But, if I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?" -Rabbi Hillel




Be your own flame. Be your own love. Be your motherfucking own demon. And trust God. Above all... trust God.










The Heart Is Like A Garden. It Can Grow Compassion Or Fear, Resentment Or Love. What Seeds Will You Plant There? - Gautam Buddha [1080x1080] ⚡️RT IF YOU AGREE🔥




This is very great.....having that knowledge alone, and a little sense of kindness...makes him rich on the outside.




What will you plant? The Heart Is Like A Garden. It Can Grow Compassion Or Fear, Resentment Or Love. What Seeds Will You Plant There? - Gautam Buddha Source:







"Love yourself enough to set boundaries. Your time and energy are precious. You get to choose. How you use it. You teach people how to treat you by deciding what you will and won't accept." ~Anna Taylor~




Nothing comes to you, because IT CAN ONLY COME FROM YOU. The now is not outside of you. The now flows from inside of you, and right now you are using it to your advantage or disadvantage. What are you doing with your now, right now?



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“When you nod your head yes But you wanna say no What do you mean? ”- Justin Bieber

Look at your wings: they’re crushed, broken, snapped, they’re in oblivion. How can an angel like you fly off to Heaven, now? You ought to stay here and let I sew your wings back. You ought to stay here and let I bathe with you. … Shimmery, glimmering, glinting, gun-metal your wings resemble. Dull earth your eyes are, little rocks protrude from your skin, aye; a mess you are, Angel, and a cleanser I am, Angel.

“Slow-Diving in Atlanta” from Cold Baths, I Breathe Water by Yellow don-que MacNaveen

Relics in between the sofa / I go to extremes to know the / Insolent angry teens who choked up / When their teachers wrote horrible things on the blackboard / crushing the potentials dreams—I’d rather / question you and find what it means / ask your friends for help getting back up

“World War Weaving” by Henry J. McMasthope

Mountains seem to answer an increasing imaginative need in the West. More and more people are discovering a desire for them, and a powerful solace in them. At bottom, mountains, like all wildernesses, challenge our complacent conviction – so easy to lapse into – that the world has been made for humans by humans. Most of us exist for most of the time in worlds which are humanly arranged, themed and controlled. One forgets that there are environments which do not respond to the flick of a switch or the twist of a dial, and which have their own rhythms and orders of existence. Mountains correct this amnesia. By speaking of greater forces than we can possibly invoke, and by confronting us with greater spans of time than we can possibly envisage, mountains refute our excessive trust in the man-made. They pose profound questions about our durability and the importance of our schemes. They induce, I suppose, a modesty in us.

Happiness resists you. I love you. Horror kisses you. I hate you. Bring me. The Oasis. You fiend. I’m thirsty. I need you. More than anything. No match. For you. Take me. Joy constructs. Fear destroys. Not. Giving you up. Not any. No time soon.

“Canon” from Tea-Time by Gemma B. Flatley