noumenias reblogged
Source: banfred
noumenias reblogged
I’m really satisfied with how my June overview came out ;U; ♥
Source: leafy-journals
noumenias reblogged
noumenias reblogged
noumenias reblogged
pearlopium
noumenias reblogged
noumenias reblogged
Source: Flickr / lucyrose
noumenias reblogged
I could never wrap my head around the idea of love. For some, it was a person, a cheery memory, a reason to move forward. But for some, it was a distant memory, a drought, a long forgotten incident. I asked my mother how should I know what love truly is; and she told me: Love will never be a person. It will be the respect in your eyes and care in your heart. It will also be the worry in your mind and pain in your head. It will come in all your passions, sounds of the laughter of your friends and glimmer of all the things you care about. Don’t cage it around the idea of a person; this is the only way it would hurt — The Idea Of Love By Noor Unnahar (writing journal entry # 3) // follow me on Instagram
noumenias reblogged
My entire trip to London, chronicled. I kept so many ticket stubs, maps, trinkets, and stickers it was really hard to sort out what to use.
I’m so incredibly in love with re-reading this trip even though it was only a month ago.
noumenias reblogged
She saw art in everything but herself.
(via radiantquotes)
noumenias reblogged
hisandherquotes
(18+)
Source: hisandherquotes
noumenias reblogged
As the names of the 49 victims of the Pulse nightclub shooting were being read at a vigil in Orlando, a photographer noticed something up above: A flock of birds flying by.
She snapped a quick photo. But it wasn’t until she counted the birds in her frame that she was truly surprised: There were 49.
Source: cnn.it
noumenias reblogged
Entrance to Disneyland in 1965
noumenias reblogged
Red, like the innocent blood lost,
Orange, like the warning signs that they never had,
Yellow, like the happiness they were meant to take part in,
Green, like the helmets that arrived all too late,
Blue, like the stretchers that couldn’t save them,
Indigo, like the souls that are aching,
Violet, like the bruises for just being.
The True Rainbow (via inkonapagepoetry)