i just like people.
Happy.
So, at this moment, because of a certain red-headed someone who has pushed me to this point, i’ve come to feel just how happy and blessed i am. I have the pleasure of knowing some wonderful, quality people and friends, a roof over my head, food to eat, and so much more. I just feel so blessed, and it’s come to a point in which i want to take that love i feel higher, i want to find my soul, and i want to search, and search, and search. That’s why in September, i’m going to go soul searching with a few people. Renting a small apartment in the city, working full time, and just dancing the dance of life. I’m so very pleased and content that i can barely contain myself… i guess I just had to write it on Tumblr to let it all out, haha.
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They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn…
— Jack Kerouac, On the Road, Part 1, Ch. 1
The Lovers
Rene Magritte, 1928
Magritte’s mother was a suicidal woman, which led her husband, Magritte’s father, to lock her up in her room. One day, she escaped, and was found down a nearby river dead, having drowned herself. According to legend, 13 year old Magritte was there when they retrieved the body from the river. As she was pulled from the water, her dress covered her face. This later became a theme in many of Magritte’s paintings in the 1920’s, portraying people with cloth covering their faces. (source)
