Granada, Spain

Sometimes as I lie here at night upon my freshly laundered pink checked sheets I think how odd and slightly terrifying it is to be here. Here, in this place that is foreign to me in the home of a person who was a stranger two weeks ago sleeping five feet away from another person who I did not know 14 days ago. I am an entire ocean plus a continent away from just about everyone and everything I know and love and am comfortable with, and I’m doing all this by choice.
When I think about all the miles and the people and the life I am leading I am overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all. Yet in the morning when I wake up and eat breakfast and walk through the streets to my university I feel completely normal. I have realized the extent of the adaptability of the human spirit. It is not the place in itself that is home or not home, not the people or culture around me that are necessarily foreign. Rather it is my thoughts and feelings that make a place home, that make a person familiar or foreign. It is my accepting of living in my challenge zone that allows me to go about life normally, to be comfortable in the face of the new and the difficult. So yes, it is mind blowing to be here, but only if I actually think about it.

Wow it’s been awhile. And it might stay that way. Sorry tumblr

Holy smokes.

There are actually people I am attracted to here, this is big news. 



I was a little bothered by their use of the word “pussy” but other than that, this was a good piece. (source

(via bonkersforpotter)

The universe is too good at irony.
Yes, I was genuinely feeling peaceful, right with the world, and able to be there for those in my life who needed me to be stable.
No, that does not mean you can shit all over that state of mind, universe.




Bluebells in Friston Forest by Alan MacKenzie on Flickr.


Meadow ➾ Luke Gram


Storm of Swords Storm of Swords Storm of Swordsssss

All I want to do is read you alllllll the timeeeeeee.