We went sprawling toward the coast like arteries from the heart. Blacktop days passed, biting at the horizon. Our tires cracked. Our skin calmly matched our hair.
The Eagle, or the Serpent by Case Studies
Sign of the times
mmm
I felt mad—not unbathed and bug-eyed, not wrapped in a stiff sheet, sleepless and rocking, just mad—with one dusty bare toe pointed down, pressing into the peak. Balancing and swaying though the air lacked wind, I could see myself falling this way or that: numbing light or wild darkness. I felt as soothed as a swaddled baby imagining a dive in either direction. Any absurd boulder left unpushed at the base meant nothing. I was free.
Bad Ritual by Timber Timbre
Neal Cassady by The Weather Underground
Little River by Tallest Man on Earth
White Shoes by Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band
"And if we forgive life for not being what we told it to be, or expected, or wished, or longed for it to be, we forgive ourselves for not being what we might have been also. And then we can be what we are, which is boundless."
John Tarrant (via jeffpartridge)
(via dreaminginthedeepsouth)
Train Leaving Gray by Mason Jennings
