when I can’t feel you near
I think of your hands
the way they grasp mine
fingers through my hair
holding me closer
I know you are here
when I can’t feel you near
I think of your hands
the way they grasp mine
fingers through my hair
holding me closer
I know you are here

Amen
(Source: outreasoned, via ablogs)
Typewriter Series #389 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for tired eyes:
On the occasion of my death, how will I be remembered?
Will it be sobs and soaked handkerchiefs or will it be laughter
and heads shaking in collective acknowledgment
to the silly and completely ridiculous stories that will be told?
On the occasion of my death, how will I meet the one that will
usher me through the crossroads of this life and the next?
Will it be with a bang, with a silent whimper, or with my forehead
to the clouds a grin upon my fading mouth and my hand reaching
out first to take her hand before she asks for mine?
Will it be painful, will it hurt, will I scream for it to be over
or will I, pushing through frozen bits of frozen moments,
understand the reason for the pain and the explanation behind
the hurt and instead turn and bask in it, the final sensation
this skin and these bones will ever feel this beautiful lap
through a breathtaking life.
On the occasion of my death, what will be the weather on the instant
and dizzying transition into the occasion of my rebirth?
Will I enter through a storm or through the gentle breeze of
a sunny day? Will the rain drops be my baptism and will my first
scream be only the echo of my last scream in the flesh I used to
wear, and wear proudly?
On the occasion of my death, will the explosion be felt across the
planet or will it be the single falling star spied by a single
lonely soul sitting on the roof of some creaking house in the
cool early Autumn night? Will they feel me flicker and fade
and burst back into glowing life or will I just fall into line
as the next star in a crowd of many that will make up some
constellation?
Will sailors guide themselves by me, will two young souls
freshly in love wish upon me when I come out while the blue
still hangs in the sky and will I feel those wishes?
On the occasion of my death, what will become of all that was?
What will become of all I was to be
on the occasion of my death?
-Tyler Knott Gregson-
There is a strength that comes in silence, a strength that never needs to announce itself or prove its measure. The mountains have never needed to scream of their own grandeur, nor whisper of their might.
Follow me @TylerKnot on Instagram and Twitter.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about love. I mean I ALWAYS think a lot about love. Way too much. But recently I’ve been thrown back to thoughts of love I used to have. In high school I was head over heels truly madly deeply in love. Like so in love it hurts. Some times I catch myself wondering if I’m ever going to feel that again. Because I haven’t felt anything that strongly in a very long time. I yearn for the passion you feel when you’re 16 years old and a boy is so in love and you fall crazily for him because you have nothing to lose.
I want to love like I have nothing to lose
I know I will. If there’s anything in this world that is certain—it’s that love conquers all. I KNOW I will find the one person in this world who completes me. Who fits in that part of me that belongs to only him.
Just like, I don’t wanna wait, ya know? :)
There will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Typewriter Series #383 by Tyler Knott Gregson

(Source: mollyjmccook)

(Source: mollyjmccook)
T-Rex Trying to paint his house…
#TRexTrying
Hey everyone. To celebrate the launch of our new book, I thought I’d re-post the first cartoon that started it all.