(Source: followthegoat, via thedirtyvirgin)
(Source: followthegoat, via thedirtyvirgin)
And if a woman should say she doesn’t want to have children at all, the world is apt to go decidedly peculiar: ‘Ooooh, don’t speak too soon,’ it will say — as if knowing whether or not you’re the kind of person who desires to make a whole other human being in your guts, out of sex and food, then have the rest of your life revolve around its welfare, is a breezy, ‘Hey - whevs’ decision. Like electing to have a picnic on an unexpectedly sunny day or changing the background picture on your desktop. ‘When you meet the right man, you’ll change your mind, dear,’ the world will say, with an odd, aggressive smugness.
– Caitlin Moran, “How to Be a Woman” (via Buffy Plays With Demons)
(via historicalslut)
Words will never be enough to capture my entire wanting of having your arms around me and hearing your voice.
Even til this day, I refuse to erase my voice mail, because that’s the only way I’ll be able to hear you voice.
I want to talk to you so much. I want to hear it from you, that everything will be okay. I want to see you. I want you to assure me of my strength, because since you’ve been gone I’ve been feeling weaker.
I want to tell you about everything, all the things I never bothered telling you before. I want you to see me play this Fall. I want you to be there for me in the stands. I want to hug you before I leave to another school. I want to see the pride in your face. I want to see the happiness reflecting from your eyes and echo in your laughter.
I think about you, and I can only remember how you looked in your final days. I hate that the most. I want to see you in the flesh, the way you looked before.
I want to run into your arms.
I want to laugh and joke around with you again.
I want to tell you about this boy, who I have completely fallen for.
I want to have you again, and I can’t and I hate it.
I hate it because you’re the ONE person I CANNOT speak to, and you’re the ONLY person I want to speak to.
ambedo n. a kind of melacholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life
(via katmeww)
(Source: imfinethanku, via thedirtyvirgin)
(Source: darkandchaos, via heightsofheavendepthsoftheearth)
Les Misérables (2012)
Submitted by flawedreality
(Source: jeanvaljeans, via heightsofheavendepthsoftheearth)
(Source: headlikeanorange, via heightsofheavendepthsoftheearth)
:) 👊
(Source: freecocaine, via captain-save-uh-hoe)
(Source: ephemeral-mind, via not-badforagirl)
(Source: vanderwaalmonas, via convictedbibliophile)
