ॐ Museful Wandering

title optional

i’m lying here in bed with hopeful dreams of falling asleep (irony) but it seems sleep is not significant enough to combat what’s on my mind.

i’m thinking about the how to get theres and what to wears for my night tmrw with my best friend. i’m spending my summer in NYC and my goal is to do as many cool free things as i can. so we’re going to a free electronic show at the hudson pier, featuring Zedd (he’s awesome) and an open bar (that’s even more awesome). mainly though, i’m thinking about the opportunities that i have been scoring lately. i’m currently interning for a pretty big marketing and media company, Alloy, under their digital dept doing editorial and marketing work. it’s a pretty sweet gig. I also got hooked up with a friend of my cousin who needed help building up his company’s website, so i’m doing some freelance on the side for him.

none of that’s important though, relatively.

here’s my current issue at hand: what do you do when u want to write but you don’t know what to write about? (my second issue is how i’m gonna survive the summer with a roommate who goes to sleep at fucking 10 pm every night.)

the temporary solution to both these things is to use your smartphone to write a tumblr post late at night from underneath your covers so as to not reflect light on your very white dormroom walls. (i keep asking myself why i’m a 21 year old living in a dormatory, but then i just glance at the empire state building outside my window.)

i need to start writing every single fucking day (aside from the adrenaline pumping articles about teen heart throbs and womens sex tips i write for work, although i must say some of the latter can get exciting). it’s liberating, really. even writing this rambling on post about nothing- it’s making me feel good. i need to stop forgetting this feeling.

whenever i have the thought though, that I really need to start writing again, like I used to in high school, I automatically undermine my abilities. “I have nothing to write about…. I’m not Anthony Bourdain.” (btw if anyone knows what I need to major in to be him when I grow up, holla.)

i dont think i’m talking about writer’s block though. this is just me closing off my mind to what it can do. isn’t that pretty shitty? i think i just had an epiphany! holy shit my roommate just spoke some weird unrecognizable language outloud in her sleep and it was really creepy. these things are unrelated.

well that was all very weird.
g’night.

theanimalblog:

Photographer Ronald Wittek watched from close range as a bear cleans himself in a pool before falling asleep under a tree in the Bavarian Forest, Germany. Picture: Ronald Wittek/Arco Images/Solent News

(Source: terra-mater, via pentatonic-daydream)

orangemuses:

underb00b:

jellyrolland:

OUR PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED

PRAISE

I… Well

I guess all the atheists are pissed because this is undeniably proof that there is a God

!!! i’m pissed that i was deprived of this as a child…

(via theuncommonplace)

namakimuna:

ghost-anus:

drug-land:

cotton candy that gets you high

what a time to be alive

Wait I want this right now

gimme dat.

(Source: buttarmelkbaddder)

“Travel is little beds and cramped bathrooms. It’s old television sets and slow Internet connections. Travel is extraordinary conversations with ordinary people. It’s waiters, gas station attendants, and housekeepers becoming the most interesting people in the world. It’s churches that are compelling enough to enter. It’s McDonald’s being a luxury. It’s the realization that you may have been born in the wrong country. Travel is a smile that leads to a conversation in broken English. It’s the epiphany that pretty girls smile the same way all over the world. Travel is tipping 10% and being embraced for it. Travel is the same white T-shirt again tomorrow. Travel is accented sex after good wine and too many unfiltered cigarettes. Travel is flowing in the back of a bus with giggly strangers. It’s a street full of bearded backpackers looking down at maps. Travel is wishing for one more bite of whatever that just was. It’s the rediscovery of walking somewhere. It’s sharing a bottle of liquor on an overnight train with a new friend. Travel is ‘Maybe I don’t have to do it that way when I get back home.”

Nick Miller, Isn’t It Pretty to Think So? (via ethereally)

This is certainly the most popular passage in Isn’t It Pretty to Think So? (at least according to online sharing). Long before I started writing my book—while staying in a small hotel in Munich, Germany—I scribbled these words into a Moleskine notebook about my experience abroad. I guess I’m glad I found a way to include them in the book later on.

(via nickmiller)

#travel

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master…”

Elizabeth Gilbert