It’s so easy to wish your life away, to waste the time you have here by romanticising the time you may at one point have somewhere else. If I live in New York, I can put fairy lights on my fire escape, and I’ll sit there at two in the morning drinking tea and watching my lover sleep; if I blow all my money on a villa in Greece for a month, I’ll be able to finish my book there, and I’ll come back with stories that will inspire my friends into travelling themselves one day; my Polaroids would look so much better if I lived in Brick Lane instead of Brisbane.
It’s so easy to wish your life away, but we don’t have as much time as we think we do, darlings.
Know what else is easy? It’s so easy to take steps, small as you like, towards turning the life you have right now into the life you’ve always wanted. Put aside some money each week with which to buy yourself flowers and magazines - or whatever makes you happy, which for me is flowers and magazines - and display them somewhere prominent; if you keep thinking about how an alcohol cabinet in your shitty sharehouse would make parties much more fun, and lonely nights a little warmer, then start building your collection today; sign up to newsletters that tell you about artisan markets, about secret shows, about new restaurants that open up and actually make the effort to go to these things, enjoy yourself, take pictures if you need to remind yourself that you were there.
Come back to me in six months and tell me you don’t love your city.
Draw a heart, Daisy Lola. (via spearmintblonde)
Real-life Grave of the Fireflies: (Photo) Stoic Japanese orphan, standing at attention having brought his dead younger brother to a cremation pyre, Nagasaki, by Joe O’Donnell 1945
This photograph was taken by an American photojournalist, Joe O’Donnell, in Nagasaki in 1945.
He recently spoke to a Japanese interviewer about this picture:
“I saw a boy about ten years old walking by. He was carrying a baby on his back. In those days in Japan, we often saw children playing with their little brothers or sisters on their backs, but this boy was clearly different. I could see that he had come to this place for a serious reason. He was wearing no shoes. His face was hard. The little head was tipped back as if the baby were fast asleep.
“The boy stood there for five or ten minutes. The men in white masks walked over to him and quietly began to take off the rope that was holding the baby. That is when I saw that the baby was already dead. The men held the body by the hands and feet and placed it on the fire.
“The boy stood there straight without moving, watching the flames. He was biting his lower lip so hard that it shone with blood. The flame burned low like the sun going down. The boy turned around and walked silently away.
Cry every time
Idk why I keep getting sad over people that don’t give a shit about me.