jonnygeronimo:

Countdown.

The credits to another episode of American a Dad have begun to scroll. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting mindlessly sitting here or how many episodes I’ve watched. The A/C kicks in with its familiar thud, a thrust of air reverberates through the vents. It’s audible drone overlaps the closing tune of the show. I close my eyes and take a deep, voluntary breath. 

Ten. 

I relax my forehead, cheeks and jaw. I can now feel every part of my face. 

Nine. 

I give into gravity, allowing my shoulders to fall with it. 

Eight. 

I release the tension in my hands and fingers. I feel the minute pulsations from my beating hearts* in the tips of my thumb and the small of my wrist. 

Seven. 

My hips settle into place, grounding me to this floor, in this apartment, in this building, on this lot and on this Earth. 

Six. 

My legs are weightless. I can feel their presence, supporting my frame. 

Five. 

My back branches from the ground in effortless balance. 

Four. 

Each breath is a full body experience. An anchor keeping my thoughts from traveling too far. 

Three. 

I feel the chopped gusts of air from the ceiling fan above graze my face and forearms. The air is refreshing and I am grateful that it’s on. I realize this sensation has been here for as long as I’ve been sitting at this spot, but I’m only noticing it now. How many small, but wonderful things are happening all around me without my noticing them?

Two. 

I occupy the same space as everything in this room. I am not a separate phenomena, but part or a greater whole. 

One. 

Now is all there is.




(*Timelord = Two hearts. Catch up.)

jonnygeronimo:

Countdown.

The credits to another episode of American a Dad have begun to scroll. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting mindlessly sitting here or how many episodes I’ve watched. The A/C kicks in with its familiar thud, a thrust of air reverberates through the vents. It’s audible drone overlaps the closing tune of the show. I close my eyes and take a deep, voluntary breath.

Ten.

I relax my forehead, cheeks and jaw. I can now feel every part of my face.

Nine.

I give into gravity, allowing my shoulders to fall with it.

Eight.

I release the tension in my hands and fingers. I feel the minute pulsations from my beating hearts* in the tips of my thumb and the small of my wrist.

Seven.

My hips settle into place, grounding me to this floor, in this apartment, in this building, on this lot and on this Earth.

Six.

My legs are weightless. I can feel their presence, supporting my frame.

Five.

My back branches from the ground in effortless balance.

Four.

Each breath is a full body experience. An anchor keeping my thoughts from traveling too far.

Three.

I feel the chopped gusts of air from the ceiling fan above graze my face and forearms. The air is refreshing and I am grateful that it’s on. I realize this sensation has been here for as long as I’ve been sitting at this spot, but I’m only noticing it now. How many small, but wonderful things are happening all around me without my noticing them?

Two.

I occupy the same space as everything in this room. I am not a separate phenomena, but part or a greater whole.

One.

Now is all there is.

(*Timelord = Two hearts. Catch up.)

spellthief:

If I’m able to, then perhaps I’ll be closer to portraying a true expression of love.

          -Hayao Miyazaki (x)

superwhollock:

Doctor Who 8.3 ‘Robots of Sherwood’ - 14th April [x]

Twelve, what are you doing.

You don’t know how to arrow.

Twelve, please.

Stahp.

Anyone see Gallifrey last night?

Anyone see Gallifrey last night?

[x]

cleowho:

"No frills, no scarf, no messing, just 100 percent Rebel Time Lord."


Soon. ❤️❤️

cleowho:

"No frills, no scarf, no messing, just 100 percent Rebel Time Lord."

Soon.

❤️❤️