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The Beatles - Dear Prudence
“All the people around her were very worried because she was going insane. So we sang to her. They selected me and George to try and bring her out because she would trust us. She went completely mental. If she’d been in the West they would have put her away. We got her out of the house. She’d been locked in for three weeks and wouldn’t come out, trying to reach God quicker than anybody else. That was the competition in Maharishi’s camp: who was going to get cosmic first.” - John Lennon
“Being on that course was more important to me than anything in the world. I was very focused on getting in as much meditation as possible , so that I could gain enough experience to teach it myself. I knew that i must have stuck out because I would always rush straight back to my room after lectures and meals so that I could meditate. John, George and Paul would all want to sit around jamming and having a good time and I’d be flying into my room. They were all serious about what they were doing but they just weren’t as fanatical as me […] At the end of the course, just as they were leaving, George mentioned that they had written a song about me but I didn’t hear it until it came out on the album. I was flattered. It was a beautiful thing to have done.” - Prudence Farrow
This is a repost from last night’s post, the song that I posted last night had some other songs mixed in. Anyway, here’s Dear Prudence, and Dear Prudence only. Enjoy
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NAY, GOLDEN ONE.
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![voldysgonemouldy7:
3/50 pictures of » Emma Watson [x]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m441zutBUr1qc6e0jo1_500.png)
3/50 pictures of » Emma Watson [x]
napoleon bonaparte
more like napoleon BORN2PARTY
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I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was - I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost.
Jack Kerouac - On The Road