cause you know I love my fruit skewers…
here’s a doughnut hole version just perfect for your next brunch![via:rockabyebucktown:gastrogirl]
cause you know I love my fruit skewers…
here’s a doughnut hole version just perfect for your next brunch![via:rockabyebucktown:gastrogirl]

I just cant help but think how true this is. I started playing music nearly 13 years ago, and I feel like I am just now, closing the gap.
Preach Brother! I love me some Ira!
n. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic nod, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.
(Source: dictionaryofobscuresorrows, via quarterlifecoe)
For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
[via dixonlea: thekimenator]
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Come, let’s be a comfortable couple and take care of each other! How glad we shall be, that we have somebody we are fond of always, to talk to and sit with.
Charles Dickens
[via bippityboppityboo]
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Yes.
Yes. Yes.
In 1933, F. Scott Fitzgerald ended a letter to his 11-year-old daughter, Scottie, with the following:
Things to worry about:
Worry about courage
Worry about cleanliness
Worry about efficiency
Worry about horsemanship
Things not to worry about:
Don’t worry about popular opinion
Don’t worry about dolls
Don’t worry about the past
Don’t worry about the future
Don’t worry about growing up
Don’t worry about anybody getting ahead of you
Don’t worry about triumph
Don’t worry about failure unless it comes through your own fault
Don’t worry about mosquitoes
Don’t worry about flies
Don’t worry about insects in general
Don’t worry about parents
Don’t worry about boys
Don’t worry about disappointments
Don’t worry about pleasures
Don’t worry about satisfactions
Things to think about:
What am I really aiming at?
How good am I really in comparison to my contemporaries in regard to:
(a) Scholarship
(b) Do I really understand about people and am I able to get along with them?
(c) Am I trying to make my body a useful instrument or am I neglecting it?
With dearest love,
Daddy[via pinkhotel: listsofnote.com]
Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.
today. | via thisisnotacomp
Not much can wreck my day like waking up and not having a plan of action for the 17 hours I’ll be awake. Specifically in regards to balancing working and running.
And it can’t be abstract. When training for important races, I have to know exactly when I’m going to go for my run and set aside…