3 hours ago   •   2 notes
  • Today I’m remembering Charlie.

    Because in my sleepy state I conjured up dream fantasies of him being around, him having conversations with his mom, something about him reading all our Facebook posts on his wall… But then I remembered he’s not around to read them.

    And now I’m remembering freshman year, when I fell desperately in like (not love, like) with the boy, while loving him in every way a friend can. I remember all the guilt and shame and the only real feelings of jealousy I ever painfully felt. I remember the emotional turmoil of those months and how grateful I was that after all that, we became better friends than ever. 

    A year later we would say “no hetero” to each other and actually mean it. I could watch him change his clothing and not feel an ounce of attraction. He’d give me massages by sitting on my back and his mom would walk in and her only reaction would be, “Why don’t you give me nice massages like that?” I remember lying in his bed, just talking. I remember him cooking for me. I remember going on long walks where my hand would be around his shoulder. But we had grown so comfortable with each other, so inseparable, so mutually loving that freshman year was only flickers in my memory. Even now, I can’t really remember liking him because my feelings grew way past that, past a freshman girl crush, past petty feelings of envy for the girls he liked, past all those ridiculous high school things (even though they affected me strongly and I remember freshman year being a very dark time for our friendship). 

    It’s odd remembering how much I liked him. But it’s not odd remembering how much I love him. That part is perfectly natural. 

    19 hours ago   •   4,947 notes   •   VIA: ferviduscatharsis   •   SOURCE: popappella
  • ARTIST: Vanderbilt Melodores
    TRACK: Sail / Feeling Good
    ALBUM: Voices Only 2013 College A Cappella, Vol. 1
    57,957 plays
    1 day ago   •   181,052 notes   •   VIA: cheriji   •   SOURCE: hoodbypussy
  • shitpostmemeboy:



    Évolution inversée

    he looked old for 14

    “It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.”
    ― Pablo Picasso

    1 day ago   •   2 notes
  • Have you ever been complimented in a way that you would never really just say about yourself, but once you hear it, you realize—yes, that’s exactly how I am? You don’t feel overly flattered or shy or awkward because the person giving you the compliment understands you in a way that everything they say originates from knowing you so well. So when you hear it, you not only believe it, you agree. You’re happy that someone else sees you the same genuine way you see yourself. 

    1 day ago   •   4,781 notes   •   VIA: just-another-nerdygirl   •   SOURCE: trackersjackers
  • 1 day ago   •   3,413 notes   •   VIA: loveisaturnerquest   •   SOURCE: love-is-constans
  • 2 days ago   •   1 note
  • 2 days ago   •   5,050 notes   •   VIA: amanda---please   •   SOURCE: fleurishes
  • At 7:35 A.M, you lay your tired body on mine
    before peeling off, like a slow band-aid.

    At 8:40 you sprint home and make instant coffee.

    At 9:45 we finally drink it, cold.
    I finish your leftover half.

    By 10:50 you are already breathless.
    I live for every time we overlap.

    When 11:55 comes I spend the entire minute convincing you to stay.
    You never do.

    By noon I put my hands on your shoulders and say, “Baby,
    you’re getting thin. All this running in circles and barely sitting down to eat.”

    At 1:05 you tell me that while you were gone,
    15,300 babies were born.

    At 2:10 you don’t say a word,
    just come in and kiss me for sixty seconds straight.

    At 3:15 we sit quiet, listening to rain falling everywhere
    in the world at once: all 15,000 tons.

    At 4:20 we pull a little from the tight joint I keep behind your ear.
    You do not inhale.

    At 5:25 you meet me for happy hour.
    My neck already salted, a lime wedged in my teeth,
    a shot of tequila sitting on the bar.

    At 6:30 I hear the ticking.
    I count your heartbeat like seconds between thunderclaps.

    By 7:35 I can see you in the distance,
    each second a tease until you drape over me.
    We always love quick and you never let me hold you.
    I dream of drinking you through a straw.

    At 8:40 you watch my beard grow 0.00027 of an inch.

    At 9:45 we do not speak.
    Too many people have died since we last met.

    At 10:50 we pray for a meteor,
    at least a clumsy kid to spill sugar in our gears.

    11:55 is my favorite.
    We’re only apart for mere minutes.

    But at midnight you’ll apologize sixty times
    because it will always be like this.

    At 1:04 AM I am already sleeping.
    It’s exhausting loving someone
    who is constantly running away.

     - Megan Falley, “What the Hour Hand Said to the Minute Hand” (via fleurishes)
    2 days ago   •   558 notes   •   VIA: fuckyeahexistentialism   •   SOURCE: wholelottaquotes
  • The universe doesn’t give you what you ask for with your thoughts — it gives you what you demand with your actions.

     -  Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free