(Source: bird-with-teeth)
Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes.
—The Winter of the Air (via velvetsands)
(via torrestorrestorres)
Boston’s always been a tough, get-to-the-point place, the way every place is getting. People have been cracking skulls there since the time of tomahawks and there’s been a long history of tragedies and victories and outrages and extreme happinesses and long, long periods of blissful mercantile calm.
After the initial concern and helping and shock, Boston has gone back to its regular “Crucify ‘em” hardness. There aren’t many people in Boston who wouldn’t knock a terrorist on the head, no matter what the politicians may say. Put whoever’s responsible for these bombs in the stocks in Downtown Crossing at noon and there won’t be anything left at the turn of the glass but a grease spot on the bricks.
But for all that exterior diamond-hardness, people in Boston have gooey centers. They are difficult to come to know, true, but once they let you in, they make excellent life-long friends. Drive you to chemo friends. Pick you up at the airport friends. Let you live at their house after a fire friends. Eulogy friends. True friends.
This week, the world looks on in fascination at the people of Boston. Get to know them. Come to see them as they are. Unmet friends. True friends.
God bless good old Boston, and God help her enemies. They never tend to fare very well.
We got some shows coming, y’all. NOT PICTURED: April 9 @ Brighton Bar, Long Branch, NJ. #selfpromotion #selfiepromotion
Regram via @dennamarie: Thank you so much to everyone who came out & the inimitable @heyocean for a fantastic evening. (at Ortliebs)
(Source: jakefogelnest)
Just this normal thing I found on the back table at work.
(Source: goodtimeslade, via sideburnsandamustache)
