Thursday, April 22

one-hundred and two


I drink a coffee every morning,
Comes from a place far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was one-hundred and two,
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
I'm no longer moved to drink strong whiskey
Cause I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
Your face it dances and it haunts me
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here,
Even after all these years
But I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
Even though I may soon feel the touch of love
If I lived till I was one-hundred and two,
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

Monday, April 19

india festival

"Colorful days, solemn rituals, joyous celebrations - Holi is a boisterous occasion! Draped in white, people throng the streets in large numbers and smear each other with bright hued powders and squirt coloured water on one another through pichkaris (big syringe-like hand-pumps), irrespective of caste, color, race, sex, or social status; all these petty differences are temporarily relegated to the background and people give into an unalloyed colorful rebellion. There is exchange of greetings, the elders distribute sweets and money, and all join in frenzied dance to the rhythm of the drums."


all via dirty blonde.

I couldn't resist, this seems so insanely magnificent. I want in.

such great heights

moroccan art

you

Friday, April 16

verushka, goddess




so insanely beautiful

i'm alive

I am. I've been at the beach with friends. I'll be home tonight, sorry for the hiatus.