All in your head.

wandrlust:

Charles Bukowski and his cat Manx, c. 1985.

wandrlust:

Charles Bukowski and his cat Manx, c. 1985.

thisbigcity:

soundbitecity:

No Surface Without a Seat

Berlin isn’t the warmest of places, so I was continually surprised by the amount of outdoor seating around the city.  In some neighborhoods, sidewalk cafes, public benches, beer gardens, or terraces seemed to be at every turn.  But what surprised me even more than the sheer amount of seating, was the seemingly ad-hoc, improvised, or innovative nature of many of the options.  Anywhere there was a surface or some extra space, you were bound to find a cushion, a folding chair, a crate, or some recycled materials inviting you to sit down and take a break.  It wasn’t limited to restaurants and bars either - cushions and chairs could be found on the steps, ledges, sidewalks, and street corners outside of clothing stores, gift shops, and all sorts of other random places.

My visit was in April, presumably the time of year when these chairs and cushions first emerge from winter storage.  I’d be curious to take walk through the city in summertime to see them in greater use, and to see if even more sprout up.  It must create an impressively vibrant street life.

Photos taken April, 2014

Take a seat!

(via npr)

thebeldam:

collectiblelore:

I want to live here.
I want to read the battery of books, little by little, at my leisure.
I want to bury myself in cool blankets and patchy, patterned pillows dripping deep in the dugout nooks and crannies of this pea-fortress.
I want to rummage through every useless bit of strange junk and trinketry, musing over its purpose, its once was weirdish story, its future with me.
I want to wake up to sun spilling dawns, and step down, then out into the wilderness to wander the day.

Agreed.


Yeah, exactly..

thebeldam:

collectiblelore:

I want to live here.

I want to read the battery of books, little by little, at my leisure.

I want to bury myself in cool blankets and patchy, patterned pillows dripping deep in the dugout nooks and crannies of this pea-fortress.

I want to rummage through every useless bit of strange junk and trinketry, musing over its purpose, its once was weirdish story, its future with me.

I want to wake up to sun spilling dawns, and step down, then out into the wilderness to wander the day.

Agreed.

Yeah, exactly..

(via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

h-o-r-n-g-r-y:

“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.” — John Muir

(Source: voyagings)