the secret life of daydreams


or the documentation of a girl


I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to 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 Maria Rilke in Letters to a Young Poet
bienenkiste:

Photographed by Erik Hart + Tatiana Leshkina

bienenkiste:

Photographed by Erik Hart + Tatiana Leshkina

likeafieldmouse:

Driss Ouadahi - Fences (2010-12)

As I Was Moving Ahead Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty (2000) Dir. Jonas Mekas

(Source: filmcat)

The most beautiful people to be around are the ones with open minds. The ones who will tell you that sorrow is just as wonderful as bliss and that at any moment, you can be whoever you want to be and love whoever and whatever you want to love- whether it is religion or the same sex or drinking or pain. Without knowing it, they are slowly changing the world.
—I sit at bars and I linger in coffee shops just to find these kind of people (via splitterherzen)

(Source: wsabe)


Alice in Wonderland (1966)

Alice in Wonderland (1966)

(Source: lewis-carroll)

(Source: weissesrauschen)


We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?
Dead Poets Society, 1989

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

Dead Poets Society, 1989

(Source: ismc22)

possumtours:

This brick outside the WWII museum caught my eye. I decided to think about Eddie Simpson. I didn’t think I’d ever learn, but a few moments on the life of a forgotten serviceman, a faceless name, couldn’t hurt. I took a picture of the name, thought about it as I walked to the car, thought about him, Eddie Simpson, as I drove home. “There had to have been more than one Edward Simpson,” I thought.I googled the exact quote from the brick and found that a man, WIlliam Overstreet, who, in 1944, flew under the arches of the Eiffel tower to shoot down a German plane had died in December, 2013. William Overstreet. WBO.A few google searches with both names lead me to Eddie Simpson’s story. After walking away from the crash of his P-51 Mustang, Simpson died to save the lives of French Resistance fighters; men and women he barely knew and with whom he could not converse.  Read: The Stars and Stripes account of Eddie Simpson’s last day.I remember Eddie Simpson.

possumtours:

This brick outside the WWII museum caught my eye. I decided to think about Eddie Simpson. I didn’t think I’d ever learn, but a few moments on the life of a forgotten serviceman, a faceless name, couldn’t hurt. 

I took a picture of the name, thought about it as I walked to the car, thought about him, Eddie Simpson, as I drove home. “There had to have been more than one Edward Simpson,” I thought.

I googled the exact quote from the brick and found that a man, WIlliam Overstreet, who, in 1944, flew under the arches of the Eiffel tower to shoot down a German plane had died in December, 2013. William Overstreet. WBO.

A few google searches with both names lead me to Eddie Simpson’s story. After walking away from the crash of his P-51 Mustang, Simpson died to save the lives of French Resistance fighters; men and women he barely knew and with whom he could not converse.  

Read: The Stars and Stripes account of Eddie Simpson’s last day.

I remember Eddie Simpson.

brxkenpetal:

insta: @lostpetal

brxkenpetal:

insta: @lostpetal

(Source: plnted)

brxkenpetal:

insta: @lostpetal

brxkenpetal:

insta: @lostpetal

(Source: )

suicidewatch:

The Flesh Eaters, 1979

suicidewatch:

The Flesh Eaters, 1979