(Source: pyramidsandufos, via kingkongtits)

Western Meadowlark by Rob Mancini

You can never really escape. It goes with you, wherever you go. Somehow, the prairie dust gets in your blood, and it flows through your veins until it becomes a part of you. The vast stretches of empty fields, the flat horizons of treeless plains. The simplicity of the people—good, earnest people. The way they talk and the way they live. The lack of occurrence, lack of attention, lack of everything. All that—it’s etched into your soul and it colors the way you see everything and it becomes a part of you. Eventually, Ms. Harper, when you leave, everything you experience outside of Kansas will be measured against all you know here. And none of it will make any sense.

P.S. BaberCassie Draws the Universe


quite the fine line

(Source: onemetricfuckload)


In 1954, we awakened something.
With those nuclear tests in the pacific?
Not tests.
They were trying to kill it.

(via onemetricfuckload)


I walked through Central Park today

(via disintegrati0n-)

Fixed. theme by Andrew McCarthy