this reminds of the nightwalk we did to get ready for solos
miss you all and miss that,
degi

this reminds of the nightwalk we did to get ready for solos

miss you all and miss that,

degi

(Source: cordisre)

ruineshumaines:

The Earth is Flat (by Porter Yates)

ruineshumaines:

The Earth is Flat (by Porter Yates)

"We’ve got silver in the stars,
and gold in the morning sun”
(Fred Hellerman/Marshall Baker)
Miss you all
-svk

"We’ve got silver in the stars,

and gold in the morning sun”

(Fred Hellerman/Marshall Baker)

Miss you all

-svk

The US decided that it was a good idea that we should wait until 2020 to start saving the planet. We should do something about it. There’s a link above to a petition.

-Chris

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

-Chris

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

-Chris

to continue the theme…

to continue the theme…

(Source: mpdrolet)

So degi’s post below got me thinking

…about that night in February. it was February 27th to be exact. and I remember it perfectly. that night around 8, there was some solid cloud cover; with a headlamp you could see six, maybe eight feet in front of you. by 10 though, the moon was beaming down and made the world glow. i may have not seen many nights of snow (although I did have a white halloween), but I have never seen a night like that in my life. the snow perfectly outlined each detail of the landscape, making even the needles of the conifers clear and crisp. a smooth, even, layer of snow lay atop the roof of ranch as if drawn in by a cartoonist. and there was no stream of electrons moving through the grids to taint the night. the moonlight didn’t need help. and everything was so still. i felt as if i was ripping up a painting as my footprints appeared on the boardwalk leading to ranch. and nights like that have existed for millions of years. before humans and cities and electricty. it was the way the world was supposed to be, and it was real. even if it didn’t feel like it. i don’t remember who exactly was with me that night, but if you were, you should remember i was so excited. it was more than mere excitement though, it was this sense of pure, innocent, sense of wonder and awe. a feeling that you rarely feel once you grow up.

well thanks for reading my 3 am musings.

love yall

mags.

remember that night in february when the sky cleared after (the power outage?) storm and the moon/stars were bright as fuck and the whole campus was like this? but prettier, and more surreal, and without the electricity part… 
even though we missed out on snow for the most part, that night was enough for me
idk where this tree is (a couple friends and i dragged a nightmare before xmas kind of tree we found home but this morning it was gone oh no but ha) happy white halloween for everyone who has it! 
love, deg

remember that night in february when the sky cleared after (the power outage?) storm and the moon/stars were bright as fuck and the whole campus was like this? but prettier, and more surreal, and without the electricity part… 

even though we missed out on snow for the most part, that night was enough for me

idk where this tree is (a couple friends and i dragged a nightmare before xmas kind of tree we found home but this morning it was gone oh no but ha) happy white halloween for everyone who has it! 

love, deg

(Source: itskconce)

Hey guys! Hope you’re all enjoying college. Here’s a poem.
-
"The Mountain"Was it youwho told me that if dreamswere painted on the sky,then Gracewas the ground beneath my feet,the spit in my shoes,the mountain?On a clear morningI can see your mountainrising up out of the junglelike the triumphant promiseof something greaterpeering down.But you kept looking up.Always up.So when they’ve built a highwayup your mountain, andcovered it in bits of newspaperand canned food,I hope somewhere there’s a quiet ledge,away from the ceaseless processionof nothing much,where you can maybe sing a songor watch the sunset,and stare at your dreams, paintedon the other sideof the sky,that vacuous ceilingthat is freedomfalling.

Hey guys! Hope you’re all enjoying college. Here’s a poem.

-

"The Mountain"

Was it you
who told me that if dreams
were painted on the sky,
then Grace
was the ground beneath my feet,
the spit in my shoes,
the mountain?

On a clear morning
I can see your mountain
rising up out of the jungle
like the triumphant promise
of something greater
peering down.

But you kept looking up.
Always up.

So when they’ve built a highway
up your mountain, and
covered it in bits of newspaper
and canned food,

I hope somewhere
there’s a quiet ledge,
away from the ceaseless procession
of nothing much,
where you can maybe sing a song
or watch the sunset,
and stare at your dreams, painted
on the other side
of the sky,
that vacuous ceiling
that is freedom
falling.

remember morse mountain? well it has a beach. and i was there a few days ago and missing and loving you all.
love, degi

remember morse mountain? well it has a beach. and i was there a few days ago and missing and loving you all.

love, degi