That’s how you know you love someone, I guess, when you can’t experience anything without wishing the other person were there to see it, too.
Kaui Hart Hemmings, The Descendants (via psych-facts)
I love that sweet smell of decay that surrounds me in forests and woods. A kind of mulchy, deep, rich rot that has no connotation of death or ending, but rather of life and age. A sense of perpetual destruction and rebirth.
Unknown (via microcomets)