Why do dogs leave earth first?


I found this on pinterest via and thought it was one of the greatest perspectives I have ever seen. If you are a dog person, you will love it.

the whole story.



the whole story.
how do you share something like that.
something so big.
so full.
no combination of words could ever give it the right light.
not when this story is made up of so many things.
stories stacked on stories.
endless somethings.
first, founded by passion and mistakes.
building blindly in the midst of another story.
created by all the bits of me.
the great bits linked to the grim bits.
the desired next to the disturbing.
striving to string its own story.
only to be ceased after mere sentences.
one ending bringing on an entirely different beginning.
this one too big for words.
this one living on forever.
growing chapter by chapter deep inside of me.
sometimes behind, sometimes beside me.
and on the worst days,
on top of me.
always growing, this story,
always changing,
always the same.
its always there, but no one can see it.
how do you speak out loud
something that only lives inside you.
something thats true meaning dies
the moment it leaves your lips.
the air deflating its enormity.
with out me, the story ends.
it can never be given away.
or fully shared.
this never ending novel,
is sustained by the details only I can know.
the moments, the seconds that mean nothing to everyone else,
the seconds and the moments between the seconds,
that mean absolutely everything to this story.
how do you share something like that.
something that can only live while kept in.


The loaded gun
thats been in my back pocket
for all these months
chose last night.
Last night
to fall out
and accidentally fire.
The thing is,
the wounds
caused accidentally,
hurt just as badly
as the intended.


find, visit...

Inspiration at its finest.


I Believe I can Fly ( flight of the frenchies).

I dont think I've ever been so inspired in under four minutes. This is the most beautifully filmed documentary with inspiration radiating through every minute. Seb Montaz is unbelievably talented. It follows a group of french men that call themselves The Skyliners while they highline and basejump in some of the most beautiful places Ive ever seen. The passion is blinding and impressive. I cannot wait to see the entire thing. Take a look! 




It starts at my feet.
And it rises slow and heavy all around me.
It consumes.
It envelopes me.
It makes it hard to breathe.
Impossible to see.
And moving is entirely out of the question.
My insides battle.
I had felt so right.
I was good.
I want to push through.
Not just move, but fly.
My mind soars.
Lifted by dreams.
Carried by tomorrows.
As soon as my heart tries to follow.
The heaviness moves in.
Pulling me down.
Holding me back.
Cementing me to the ground.
It all comes back to my feet. 


[par-uh-shoot] noun, verb, -chut·ed, -chut·ing.
a folding, umbrellalike, fabric device for allowing a person, to float down safely through the air from a great height.

“But it’s hard to stay mad when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once and it’s too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life.” — American Beauty