Poprox for the Mind

Kylie Kathleen Robbins

Artist

willllllllllllllllllll asked: So I was going to reblog the last picture you posted because it's super cute and pretty and sexy:) But my school computer blocked it under the category "boobs".

ahahhaha

i love you

I first laid eyes on June Carter when I was 18, on a Dyess High School senior class trip to the Grand Ole Opry.  I’d liked what I heard of her on the radio, and I really liked what I saw of her from the balcony at the Ryman Auditorium.  She was great.  She was gorgeous.  She was a star.  I was smitten, seriously so.  The next time I saw her was 6 years later, again at the Opry, but this time backstage because by then I was a performer too.  I walked over to her and came right out with it: “You and I are going to get married someday.”  June is formidable; she’s my solid rock.  She’s my spark plug.  When there are people to talk to and my shyness is welling up, she holds my hand.  June always sees that I’ve got the right thing to eat, if I’ll agree to eat it.  She likes the same kind of movies I do, and the same kind of TV shows.  She’s got charm, she’s got brains, she’s got style, she’s got class.  She’s silver, she’s gold, she’s got jewelry, she’s got furniture, she’s got china….she’s got a black belt in shopping.  She’s a vital performer, and it’s vital for me to have her on my concerts.  I just don’t want to travel if she can’t come with me.  She almost always does.  She’s my life’s companion, and she’s a sweet companion.  She and I have become so very close, so intimate.  Whenever I face a professional decision, I always put it to her because I know she’ll be both objective and honest.  She’s never judgmental.  She’s become everything that wife should be, in my mind.  We sleep together, we pray together, we travel together, we work together, and we’ve both found our particular place where we totally belong in every avenue of endeavor.  —Johnny Cash, From “Cash: The Autobiography”

I first laid eyes on June Carter when I was 18, on a Dyess High School senior class trip to the Grand Ole Opry.  I’d liked what I heard of her on the radio, and I really liked what I saw of her from the balcony at the Ryman Auditorium.  She was great.  She was gorgeous.  She was a star.  I was smitten, seriously so.  The next time I saw her was 6 years later, again at the Opry, but this time backstage because by then I was a performer too.  I walked over to her and came right out with it: “You and I are going to get married someday.”  June is formidable; she’s my solid rock.  She’s my spark plug.  When there are people to talk to and my shyness is welling up, she holds my hand.  June always sees that I’ve got the right thing to eat, if I’ll agree to eat it.  She likes the same kind of movies I do, and the same kind of TV shows.  She’s got charm, she’s got brains, she’s got style, she’s got class.  She’s silver, she’s gold, she’s got jewelry, she’s got furniture, she’s got china….she’s got a black belt in shopping.  She’s a vital performer, and it’s vital for me to have her on my concerts.  I just don’t want to travel if she can’t come with me.  She almost always does.  She’s my life’s companion, and she’s a sweet companion.  She and I have become so very close, so intimate.  Whenever I face a professional decision, I always put it to her because I know she’ll be both objective and honest.  She’s never judgmental.  She’s become everything that wife should be, in my mind.  We sleep together, we pray together, we travel together, we work together, and we’ve both found our particular place where we totally belong in every avenue of endeavor.  —Johnny Cash, From “Cash: The Autobiography”

(Source: mattybing1025, via trippy--hippy)

beautilation: thedailywhat: Heartwarming Tearjerker of the Day: The sheer cliffs at the mouth of Sydney Harbor have long been a popular Australian suicide spot. But they’re about to get a lot more deadly — the local man who is credited with talking at least 160 people out of killing themselves since 1964 died this week. Window-watcher Don Ritchie, known as the Angel of the Gap, could spot the troubled ones from his home across the street; he’d wander down to the cliff-edge and calmly ask, “Can I help you in some way?” More often then not, he could. He’d chat with them a bit, then invite them back to his place for a cup of tea. “My ambition has always been to just get them away from the edge, to buy them time, to give them the opportunity to reflect and give them the chance to realize that things might look better the next morning,” Ritchie once said. “You just can’t sit there and watch them. You’ve got to try and save them.”

beautilation:

thedailywhat:

Heartwarming Tearjerker of the Day: The sheer cliffs at the mouth of Sydney Harbor have long been a popular Australian suicide spot. But they’re about to get a lot more deadly — the local man who is credited with talking at least 160 people out of killing themselves since 1964 died this week.

Window-watcher Don Ritchie, known as the Angel of the Gap, could spot the troubled ones from his home across the street; he’d wander down to the cliff-edge and calmly ask, “Can I help you in some way?” More often then not, he could. He’d chat with them a bit, then invite them back to his place for a cup of tea.

“My ambition has always been to just get them away from the edge, to buy them time, to give them the opportunity to reflect and give them the chance to realize that things might look better the next morning,” Ritchie once said. “You just can’t sit there and watch them. You’ve got to try and save them.”

(via iwillfuckeverythingyoulove)