avril 2012
85 billets
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hellodearestfriend:
I hate how common it is to encounter humans who can’t understand why everyone else wouldn’t wanna be just like them. They judge others arbitrarily through what they themselves think is important and never bother to stop and think that maybe people are different than them because they want to be
mars 2012
82 billets
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If blood could boil, platelets would be spurting out of every orifice in my body right now.
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Postcards to the boy
To my newly established boyfriend,
Sometimes I like to fancy that I know you quite well, but I don’t expect I ever will entirely. I only know for certain that I adore your dimples when you smile, and how your smiles are genuine enough to reflect your character, that I can trace the lines through which your life is carried by the force of your beating heart, and how my head fits nicely upon...
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“Common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between...”
– Vladimir Nobokov. (via aacissej)
Anonyme a demandé : don't you think your novel way of trying to keep your boyfriend awake was a bit risky as guys usually fall asleep after they've come!
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I know I can’t have him forever. Chances are that I won’t even want him forever. But knowing that one day we won’t feel this way about each other is a thought that makes me very melancholy.
He asked me what it was like having a boyfriend for the first time, and I admitted that I’m not used to the label. It still sounds strange on my tongue and in my mind, but it’s...
Anonyme a demandé : What did you do to keep him awake?
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[[MORE]]
What is it supposed to feel like when you like somebody and they officially return your affections? I’m not used to this mutualness so I keep feeling like I have to win him over, even though technically he should already be won over. You know, converted to the club of people who profusely adore me. I’m constantly paranoid that he likes me less than I like him. Sometimes it...
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Dear world
hellodearestfriend:
the light is leaving my eyes the blood is leaving my heart if floating away were a hobby I’d make it a fucking art xx
Anonyme a demandé : Hi, what theme do you use? I love it! :)
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I love the little noises he makes when I kiss his neck. Last night, it was even better. “I want you to be mine” sounded perfect in his soft breathless whisper. We agree that putting labels on something makes people feel the need to fill those roles, which is stifling and terrible. But he thinks labels would be nice and I like the novelty of them (having never had a boyfriend, ever). So...
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Things I once wrote about someone who no longer...
He is so pale, I bet if I run my fingernails down his chest they would leave red marks and he would gasp either from surprise or something else, and then his stomach would draw in, which also happens when people can’t breath because it feels so amazing. I would feel ribcages.
One particularly good night, I was able to imagine very vividly what it would feel like to run my hands through his...
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dnlfn replied to your post: “We look really good together. I mean, I’ve had…
what luck
I have yet ceased to be amazed.
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“We look really good together. I mean, I’ve had quite attractive girlfriends in the past, and if I were to compare you side by side it would honestly be a tough call. But as a whole, there are so many little things that make you better.” “Things such as what?” “They’re probably really stupid things that nobody else would notice, hahah, I like details, remember? I’ll tell you sometime. Not over...
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So my mom and stepdad invited M@ to spend the night because it’s “unsafe to drive 1.5 hours to LA at this hour.” He’s on the couch right now. Everyone else will be asleep very, very soon. I feel like a cliché teenager.
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We tell our thoughts, suggest movie recommendations, try to give as much of ourselves to someone and they’ll give us parts of themselves in return. It’s hopeless because nobody will ever know anyone else entirely, and maybe it’s better that way. But we are so isolated; our pasts are ours alone and there are no words to truly encompass every thought.
Even when our clothes have...
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Me: Mom, I want you to meet my friend.
Mom: Who's your friend?
Me: His name is Mat. He grew up in Florida and finished all of his secondary school credits by the time he was sixteen. He got his bachelor's in finance and moved to California. Now he's a financial analyst in LA, doing an audit with BP.
Mom: I don't like finance-y people.
Me: ...why not?
Mom: Remember your aunt Lisa? Her husband was a finance person. He had many schemes and tricked people out of their retirements. And then he shot her.
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If you can sum up your personality in words, you don’t have one.
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WHEN SOMEBODY YOU TALKED TO ONCE ON A DATING...
Especially when you are in the same class. I WANT TO DIE HOLY FUCKING SHIT THE SHAME
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“This is the way the world ends:
Not with a bang, but with a whimper.”
– T. S. Eliot (The Hollow Men)
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