It is no true charity to give away something that cannot possibly be of any use to you.
— Eric Horne, “What the Butler Winked At”
Thoughts, pictures, and memories reside within.
It is no true charity to give away something that cannot possibly be of any use to you.
— Eric Horne, “What the Butler Winked At”
I love so many things about this space. Add some bright colors on the walls and I’d be in heaven!
(via thelastdisco)
Source: starsandbutterflies
I still haven’t quite figured out Tumblr. It’s so different from a normal blogging platform. It seems to basically be a huge sharing space for photos, stories, quotes and more.
While it is nice to be able to pass along interesting photos, it makes it very hard to find original content, or to identify a personality behind a tumblr. A blog on Livejournal or Wordpress is often a very revealing story of a person’s life, and that personality seems to be missing on Tumblr.
Or maybe it’s just me. I got my start on Livejournal and traditional blogging platforms, and I really hate the banality of Twitter. Tumblr seems to be hovering somewhere in between.
My city is beautiful. I grew up always knowing what an ‘isthmus’ was. Our school field trips took us to the Capitol building every ear, where I would sit in the rotunda and stare up at the murals and mosaics or listen to my feet echo off the stone steps. We would sit in a circle on the green lawn shaded by the stately trees and play duck-duck-goose. Sometimes my mom would let me have ice cream at the Chocolate Coyote on State St.
Now that I’ve grown up I live close enough to feel the breeze off the lake and see the lights shine on the capitol dome when the sun goes down. I shop at Farmer’s Market and drink too much coffee at any of the number of local coffee shops.
In the summer I bike to the free zoo, the bakery on Willy street, and to work at the hospital. And I’m moving to a new area next year because there are too many amazing neighborhoods and I can’t seem to settle on just one.
Our winters are cold and summers are hot, but the months in between more than make up for it.
Our governor is a narcissistic sociopath, but our politicians have never defined who we are. The night air is filled with screaming car horns and flashing lights from police cars. The city is crying out in anger.
Source: writeoneleaf