Your Neighbor's Backyard
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girl. 19. soy un perdedor.
No trespassers allowed. / Ask your neighbor anything / Flickr / Portfolio
thedobermanmigraine: inlovewithoi: I first laid eyes on June Carter when I was 18, on a Dyess High School senior class trip to the Grand Ole Opry.  I’d liked what I heard of her on the radio, and I really liked what I saw of her from the balcony at the Ryman Auditorium.  She was great.  She was gorgeous.  She was a star.  I was smitten, seriously so.  The next time I saw her was 6 years later, again at the Opry, but this time backstage because by then I was a performer too.  I walked over to her and came right out with it: “You and I are going to get married someday.”  June is formidable; she’s my solid rock.  She’s my spark plug.  When there are people to talk to and my shyness is welling up, she holds my hand.  June always sees that I’ve got the right thing to eat, if I’ll agree to eat it.  She likes the same kind of movies I do, and the same kind of TV shows.  She’s got charm, she’s got brains, she’s got style, she’s got class.  She’s silver, she’s gold, she’s got jewelry, she’s got furniture, she’s got china….she’s got a black belt in shopping.  She’s a vital performer, and it’s vital for me to have her on my concerts.  I just don’t want to travel if she can’t come with me.  She almost always does.  She’s my life’s companion, and she’s a sweet companion.  She and I have become so very close, so intimate.  Whenever I face a professional decision, I always put it to her because I know she’ll be both objective and honest.  She’s never judgmental.  She’s become everything that wife should be, in my mind.  We sleep together, we pray together, we travel together, we work together, and we’ve both found our particular place where we totally belong in every avenue of endeavor.  —Johnny Cash, From “Cash: The Autobiography”
thisisnotfauxtograph: Yoko Ono’s “Wish Tree” (by Kendall)
iloveretro: Giulietta Masina in “Nights of Cabiria” (1957)
Katharine Ross & Dustin Hoffman on The Graduate (1967) photographed by Bob Willoughby
softfilm: Three Chinese women playing sap ma Courtesy of elephants_collector
justyourimagination: RIP Maurice Sendak, 1928-2012
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owleyedspectacles:

Kishi Bashi - It All Began With A Burst

I’m in love with this song at the moment.

11:51
fckyeaharthistory: Salvador Dalí - Three Nudes, 1944. Ink on paper
cavum: (by hexiaa)
giraa: 深夜食堂 Season2 Episode 3 fantastic show. also…the sound of pots and spatulas clinking and food sizzling on the stove and people slurping and speaking japanese is so strangely therapeutic.
galinette: Eps. 5 of Shinya Shokudo is making me cry. At 7:30am. I love this show so effing much, 20 minutes of pure amazing story telling in every single episode. 
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

zenzin:

鈴木常吉(Suzuki Tsunekichi) - 思ひで  [ぜいご, 2006]

배도 마음도 고픈.

‘심야식당’이 필요한 시간.

17:12
indicio: I went to a tattoo parlor and had YES written onto the palm of my left hand, and NO onto my right palm, what can I say, it hasn’t made my life wonderful, its made life possible, when I rub my hands against each other in the middle of winter I am warming myself with the friction of YES and NO, when I clap my hands I am showing my appreciation through the uniting and parting of YES and NO, I signify “book” by peeling open my hands, every book, for me, is the balance of YES and NO, even this one, my last one, especially this one. Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn’t the world, it wasn’t the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don’t know, but it’s so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it. -Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
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