(Envision)

On the trees are only a few gnarled apples that the pickers have rejected. They look like the knuckles of Doctor Reefy’s hands. One nibbles at them and they are delicious. Into a little round place at the side of the apple has been gathered all of its sweetness. One runs from tree to tree over the frosted ground picking the gnarled, twisted apples and filling his pockets with them. Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.

it’s about time i started on my novel.

yyongguk:

DFD — ARE WE THERE YET

(via taaeil)

Man is not only that which he conceives himself to be, but that which he wills himself to be, and since he conceives of himself only after he exists, just as he wills himself to be after being thrown into existence, man is nothing other than what he makes of himself.

xonataliee:

Pixies - Where is My Mind

HI SANNY.

(Source: dorkyporky)

The more you know the less you understand.