reasons why winter is better than summer:
- little to no insects (◕‿◕✿)
- sweaters all the time (◠△◠✿)
- the air is nice and fresh smelling (◡‿◡✿)
- sometimes it snows and you get out of school \(◕‿◕✿)/
- snow is pretty (´･ω･`)
- no pollen (▰˘◡˘▰)
- it gets darker faster so theres more nighttime and more time to look at the stars (ᅌᴗᅌ* )
- everything is dead just the way i like it (⊙‿⊙✿)
my best friend is an atheist, but whenever she is comforting me with something in my life she uses examples of God to help me because she knows it makes me feel better, and vice versa, when i comfort her i never bring up God because i respect that it’s not something that helps or works for her
i feel like this is a model of how the world should work
that is perfect
are girls still pretending they don’t masturbate?
I dunno, is society still teaching girls that anything related to their genitals is dirty and impure?
Marry someone who lets you drink their juice, even after you said you weren’t thirsty. Marry someone who laughs at the same things you do. Marry someone who kisses your nose on a cold day. Marry someone who you can watch Disney movies all day with. Marry someone who is proud of you whether you earn £5 a week or £5,000 a week. Marry someone who you can tell everything to. Marry someone who isn’t afraid or embarrassed to hold your hand in public. Marry someone who lets you take over when decorating a cake. Marry someone who you can spend the day in Ikea with without feeling stressed. Marry someone who wraps you up inside their coat in the winter. Marry someone who accepts your fears and phobias. Marry someone who gives you butterflies every time you hear their key in the door. Marry someone who you don’t always have to shave your legs for. Marry someone who accepts you all day every day, even when you don’t look or feel your best. Marry someone who still puts three sugars in your tea, despite telling them “just two”. Marry someone who doesn’t judge you when you eat your body weight in cookies. Marry someone who doesn’t make you want to check your phone, because you already know they will reply. Marry someone who waits with you to get on the train. Marry someone who understands that you need to be alone sometimes. Marry someone who gets on well with your parents and isn’t uptight about family events. Marry someone who calms you down when you get mad about stupid stuff, and never tells you it’s “only stupid stuff”. Marry someone who makes you want to be a better person. Marry someone who makes you laugh. Marry someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated. Marry someone who you love. Marry your soulmate, your lover, your best friend.
Here’s what I’ve got, the reasons why our marriage
might work: Because you wear pink but write poems
about bullets and gravestones. Because you yell
at your keys when you lose them, and laugh,
loudly, at your own jokes. Because you can hold a pistol,
gut a pig. Because you memorize songs, even commercials
from thirty years back and sing them when vacuuming.
You have soft hands. Because when we moved, the contents
of what you packed were written inside the boxes.
Because you think swans are overrated.
Because you drove me to the train station. You drove me
to Minneapolis. You drove me to Providence.
Because you underline everything you read, and circle
the things you think are important, and put stars next
to the things you think I should think are important,
and write notes in the margins about all the people
you’re mad at and my name almost never appears there.
Because you make that pork recipe you found
in the Frida Kahlo Cookbook. Because when you read
that essay about Rilke, you underlined the whole thing
except the part where Rilke says love means to deny the self
and to be consumed in flames. Because when the lights
are off, the curtains drawn, and an additional sheet is nailed
over the windows, you still believe someone outside
can see you. And one day five summers ago,
when you couldn’t put gas in your car, when your fridge
was so empty—not even leftovers or condiments—
there was a single twenty-ounce bottle of Mountain Dew,
which you paid for with your last damn dime
because you once overheard me say that I liked it.
I dearly wish that people would view their bodies as they view flowers…
Skin patches? Birthmarks?
Scars? Stretch marks?
Freckles? Moles? Acne scars?
Missing a few pieces?
handsome as ever~
Feel like you just look weird?
you’re fantastic looking~
I will never stop reblogging this
there is a women in China holding a black umbrella so she
won’t taste the salt of the rain when the sky begins to weep,
there is a 17 year old girl who smells like pomegranates and has summer air tight on her naked skin, wrapping around her scars
like veins in a bloody garden, who won’t make it past tomorrow,
there is a young man, who buys yellow flowers for the woman
in apartment 84B, who learned braille when he realized she
couldn’t read his poetry about her white neck and mint eyes
there are people watching films,
making love for the first time, opening mail with the
heading of ‘i miss you’, cooking noodles with
organic spices and red sauces, buying lemon detergent,
ignoring ‘do not smoke’ signs, painting murals
of his lips in abandoned warehouses, chewing
the words ‘i love you’ over and over again, swallowing
phone numbers and forgotten birthdays, eating
strawberry pies, drinking white wine off of each
others open mouths, ignoring the telephone,
reading this poem
someone is thinking
someone finally understands
they never really