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The Purge: Anarchy

Back from watching the Purge II. Besides all other comments and feelings that movie brought up, like the obvious parallels with today’s society and control, it made me think of personal choices. One in particular.

For example, I am on this constant search for this utopian society to flee to. One outside of myself. Being fed up with the corruption and lies surrounding me. From “small” scale issues like our food and agricultural structures and system, to much larger governmental ones. I thought I’d find that in the EU, obviously conscious that all of the negative I keep trying to escape from is existent there as well, but I knew that I just wasn’t as aware of it as I am here in the states. Unaware enough to not let it effect my inner peace with the world.

But here I am, thinking ahead of where I’ll be in a few months once I graduate school in Spain. And of course I’m planning it to be in New York, my home. A part of me is at rest because after all, “New York isn’t America”, they say. But at the same time isn’t it controversial wanting to settle and nest in a city that is considered to be one of the most international and openminded cities in the world, when at the same time, could potentially be (and is believed by many) to be the HUB of all the corruption and lies I so desperately need to shelter myself from?

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(Source: ema-j, via banana-chai)

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I like cancelled plans. And empty bookstores. I like rainy days and thunderstorms. And quiet coffee shops. I like messy beds and over-worn pyjamas. Most of all, I like the small joys that a simple life brings.
written by Unknown

(Source: c0ntemplations, via hemingway-bicycle-club)

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I am so frustrated.

I’ve been visiting home for over a week now and I figured that with all of my free time I would be able to get into creation mode sans distractions.

A story, a poem, a portrait, an idea, a project.. something!

But I am so not inspired.

But I also don’t want to force it.

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I was interested in everything and committed to nothing.
written by Gregory David Roberts, Shantaram

(Source: larmoyante, via bellezadentro)

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Her lips drink water but her heart drinks wine.
written by E.E. Cummings

(Source: emotional-algebra, via penseesduchoeur)

(via ssailorr)