don't blink

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Fri, 28 Dec 2012 22:16:17 -0500

georgianadesign: Sea Pines beach front, SC. Group 3 Designs.

Tue, 14 Aug 2012 21:55:38 -0400

georgianadesign:

Sea Pines beach front, SC. Group 3 Designs.

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Fri, 10 Aug 2012 12:47:44 -0400

The effects of the Olympics.

Fri, 10 Aug 2012 12:41:15 -0400

1. Makes people proud of their country.
2. Makes people sexually frustrated.
3. Makes people question what they've done with their life.
4. Makes people feel fat

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Fri, 10 Aug 2012 12:36:25 -0400

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Fri, 10 Aug 2012 12:35:02 -0400

from Classy Girls Wear Pearls

Mon, 06 Aug 2012 22:02:35 -0400

from Classy Girls Wear Pearls

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Sat, 23 Jun 2012 20:50:20 -0400

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Sat, 23 Jun 2012 20:50:07 -0400

I think it’s time to start doing everything. Stop being...

Sat, 23 Jun 2012 20:49:37 -0400

I think it’s time to start doing everything. Stop being afraid of myself or whatever it is I’m really afraid of.

Do Everything. Let’s Go.

To his Coy Mistress

Sat, 23 Jun 2012 20:45:01 -0400

by Andrew Marvell

Had we but world enough, and time,

This coyness, lady, were no crime.

We would sit down and think which way

To walk, and pass our long love’s day;

Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side

Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide

Of Humber would complain. I would

Love you ten years before the Flood;

And you should, if you please, refuse

Till the conversion of the Jews.

My vegetable love should grow

Vaster than empires, and more slow.

An hundred years should go to praise

Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;

Two hundred to adore each breast,

But thirty thousand to the rest;

An age at least to every part,

And the last age should show your heart.

For, lady, you deserve this state,

Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear

Time’s winged chariot hurrying near;

And yonder all before us lie

Deserts of vast eternity.

Thy beauty shall no more be found,

Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound

My echoing song; then worms shall try

That long preserv’d virginity,

And your quaint honour turn to dust,

And into ashes all my lust.

The grave’s a fine and private place,

But none I think do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue

Sits on thy skin like morning dew,

And while thy willing soul transpires

At every pore with instant fires,

Now let us sport us while we may;

And now, like am’rous birds of prey,

Rather at once our time devour,

Than languish in his slow-chapp’d power.

Let us roll all our strength, and all

Our sweetness, up into one ball;

And tear our pleasures with rough strife

Thorough the iron gates of life.

Thus, though we cannot make our sun

Stand still, yet we will make him run.

♥

Thu, 21 Jun 2012 14:39:18 -0400

♥

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