Find me.
Someday. Sometime.
Come find me.
I don't know where I'll be, or what I'll be doing.
But find me. I won't hide.
I'll have your postcards when you do.
Install Theme

A Cardboard Time Machine

A new

schoolyear, so new art:

Shopping when lonely

Shopping when lonely

Tibetan mastiff

(Source: fyeahcanines)

8oscomedownmachine:

You hear singers and guitarists with your ears but you hear bass lines with your heart so don’t go telling me bassists aren’t important

(via vesper-rose)

Day 29: Home

Day 29: Home

Tomorrow

at 3:30 PM eastern time, I will stand alone in the Washington Dulles International Airport, and my journey will be at an end. It has been a long one. I think this trip has taken more from me than it has given me in return, and for that I will never be the same. All I can hope for now is that either one day what little I had crosses my path again, or that it finds itself stronger for not. As for what was given to me here, I shan’t forget it either, the pain will mix with the pleasure, and the cycle will start anew. This is my penultimate post on this journey, tomorrow, one more. I bid you all goodnight. Now, and forever after if I do not speak to you again.

Day 28: From atop a crane

Day 28: From atop a crane

Day 27: What have I done that I should be cursed with such beautiful nights as I ready for my departure from this country?