Wake up and create a purpose for yourself. Don’t ask the meaning of life, ask yourself the meaning of each given day.
In the wilderness is the salvation of the world.
If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal- that is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you have cause momentarily to bless yourself.
To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour
William Blake, “Auguries of Innocence”
Tattoo idea :)
you’re an old, single loser who’s never going to have any friends.
I had a legitimate excuse for not going to the mosque and temple to pray
It is because love is so wild in me I might break the fragile glass cage that all religions are made of.
Imagine a city where graffiti wasn’t illegal, a city where everybody could draw whatever they liked. Where every street was awash with a million colours and little phrases. Where standing at a bus stop was never boring. A city that felt like a party where everyone was invited, not just the estate agents and barons of big business. Imagine a city like that and stop leaning against the wall - it’s wet.
If you are dirty, insignificant and unloved then rats are the ultimate role model. They exist without permission. They are hated, hunted and persecuted. They live in quiet desperation amongst the filth. And yet they are capable of bringing entire civilisations to their knees.
Revolver: How has Kenadee taken his death?
Jolie Lucker: Hard. She understands, though. She actually goes to a Christian school. I've never been religious — she goes to a private school because of the quality of education — but she's learning about God, Heaven, and all of that. The day he passed away, I sat with her teacher and we took her into the chapel. I wasn't stable. I couldn't even comprehend what happened. My emotions were making her pissed. She was so mad, but she got it. She'd tell me, "Daddy died in a motorcycle accident. Are you going to keep crying?" It's rough. She's used to him being on tour, but once it hits the six-month mark, I think she'll understand. Right now, he could be on tour and coming back. It's killing me inside, but I swear to God he does shit around our house. He used to catch bugs for her all the time and put them in jars. They would go bug hunting and get spiders, snails, and butterflies and put them in mason jars. He would pop holes in the top. We woke up this morning, and we had just moved into this new house two days ago, everything is fucking scrambled. I had this vase sitting next to the front door. She goes, "Oh my God, mommy! There's a moth in here!" The vase is really tiny at the top — it couldn't have gotten in there in any other way. I swear to God he did that. He's doing stuff like that for her just so she knows that daddy is still here. She thinks the stars are him. She thinks the brightest star is him. We'll go outside and say goodnight. One of our best friend's husband is deaf, so we know sign language. So we'll do the hand sign for "I love you" a lot up at the stars. She'll look up while we're driving and start doing that hand sign for "I love you," and sometimes at night, she'll say, "I love you, daddy. When is daddy coming home from Heaven?" She gets really angry about it. It's heartbreaking.