Car breaks down. I wait for AAA for almost two hours. 

During this glorious two hours, a cop car circles the block five times, slowing down every time to peer into my car. 

Finally, they pull up behind me, and ask me why I’m there. Told them my car broke down. They didn’t believe me, and asked me if I had drugs in my car. They had the fucking nerve to ask to search my car. 

I’m 100 percent done. That’s the third time that has happened to me in that city. Three times, without good reason. 

So incredibly frustrating and degrading. 

What happens to a dream deferred?


Does it dry up 
like a raisin in the sun? 
Or fester like a sore— 
And then run? 
Does it stink like rotten meat? 
Or crust and sugar over— 
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?”

Langston Hughes

Reblogged from observando


Places of Solitude, 2013 | by Laura Tidwell
Reblogged from fill in the spaces

Happy birthday to me!

Tags: personal


Swimming lessons, Cia De Foto

Reblogged from this isn't happiness.
Your voice sounds completely different in different languages. It alters your personality somehow. I don’t think people get the same feeling from you. The rhythm changes. Because the rhythm of the language is different, it changes your inner rhythm and that changes how you process everything.

When I hear myself speak French, I look at myself differently. Certain aspects will feel closer to the way I feel or the way I am and others won’t. I like that—to tour different sides of yourself. I often find when looking at people who are comfortable in many languages, they’re more comfortable talking about emotional stuff in a certain language or political stuff in another and that’s really interesting, how people relate to those languages.
— Francois Arnaud for Interview Magazine (via iraplastic)
Reblogged from Daily Dose of German
Don’t live the same year 75 times and call it a life.
— Robin Sharma  (via thatkindofwoman)
Reblogged from Reverie in Reality.

I have an interview with EA this Friday. 😱

Tags: personal