Just breathe, this is only temporary. Six Word Poem (via happy-absturz)

(Source: thxxxghts, via l-eer)


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And I thought there should be a word for this sort of thing ― when your last dream mimics your first waking moment. Shouldn’t there be a beautiful word for that. Marjorie Celona, Y (via pniepple)

(via rustyvoices)


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spaece:

more here
It’s sad, isn’t it?
How we defend people who treat us like absolute shit? N,E.W., they told me you didn’t deserve me, and I told them they didn’t know what they were talking about. (via misehry)

(via misehry)


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lostincape-town:

I’m attracted to intelligence. Not the book smart type of intelligence. I could care less whether you’ve gone to college or how much money you make because of it. I like intelligent conversations that make me think even hours after it’s ended. I soak up words from radical minds.

(via l-eer)

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I think about you. But I don’t say it anymore. Marguerite Duras, Hiroshima, Mon Amour (1959)

(Source: teenager90s, via vodkacupcakes)


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pvbertyblues:


“My sister’s boyfriend, Fox, on his last day of high school. The sun was setting, and he and his friends were all playing around. I caught him in a moment of reflection.” By Petra Collins
The weather varies between heavy fog and pale sunshine; My thoughts follow the exact same process. Virginia Woolf, 21 April 1918 (via wordsthat-speak)

(via wordsthat-speak)


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Last night I learned if you drink enough alcohol it tastes like love. k.s (via darling-your-my-demon)

(via unrequitd)


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if you consider a woman
less pure after you’ve touched her
maybe you should take a look at your hands (via featherumbrellas)

(Source: anachronica, via decidement)


1,018,604 notes ·reblog