(Source: brittnyelise, via blua)
(Source: jessicachu)
I just took a moment…………………….and daydreamed.
via DigsDigs
faded gold trim, plush white, warm wood, and brass accents…I would never leave that bed
(Source: kentuckyfriedjones, via jeezitzben)
Lost And Found
On Mother’s Day, it seems appropriate to tell the story of Chicago Bulls guard Jimmy Butler.
At age 13, Butler was thrown out of his house by his mother and started wandering around from home to home, finding shelter where he could.
During his senior year in high school, he became friends with Jordan Leslie through basketball — they became close and he started sleeping over at his place.
This is when Leslie’s mother Michelle Lambert realized after one too many sleepovers that Butler in fact didn’t have a permanent home.
Already with seven children of their own, Lambert and her husband Michael discussed whether they could afford to take on one more child and came to this conclusion: the implications of not taking in Butler were greater than the alternative.
Butler kept this story from most people, even leading up to the NBA Draft last year, he listed his biological parents Londa and Jimmy Butler in Marquette’s media guide.
Before Butler was drafted, Lambert expressed no regrets about the decision to accept Butler into her family:
‘‘To me, the early part of his life doesn’t exist. I mean, it does exist, but I just think of him as mine and that he’s been with us forever. I hope someone gives him a chance. No one gave him a chance. I guess we did, and look what happened. He finally had someone to make proud of him. If an NBA team gives him a chance, he’ll do the world for them. That’s what he did for me.”
Happy Mother’s Day everyone.
The Blind Side 2: Down The Baseline… anyone??
Biology has nothing to do with being a mother
Artist:
Jarek Kubicki
“60543”
Ink, Photography and Photoshop
“…and again: ink and water, photography and some others scans joined together in Photoshop.”
(via monk3y)
You are my motivation. The very thought that drives me to do what I hate to do. You pull my by the hand and drag me through the dirt, be it rain or sleet or snow, until I get to where I know I must go. Because sometimes, me myself just isn’t enough to get me through the day, and sometimes being me myself isn’t enough to remind me of what’s at stake. You prevent me from being forever happy and blissfully content because you do not allow me that occasion of peace. I wish I didn’t need you every morning, and I wish I didn’t need you every night. You have always been there, but lately you have become raucously loud, perpetually insistent, and increasingly present. You are an itch I can’t stop scratching and the nails I wish I could stop biting, but I think out of all my bad habits you will be the one that I will never be able to get rid of. I would be immobilized without you and you are so relentless. I am exhausted by you but I know you could care less. What we have, you and I, is a sick and twisted relationship, and I know I can find someone better…but for now, I can’t live without you.
(Source: conflictingheart)
sometimes it’s a door, sometimes it’s just an outline chalked onto a wall.
