‘where is the pen i was using like 3 seconds ago’ an autobiography i’ll never write because i keep losing the pen i was using like 3 seconds ago.
arabic poetry is so beautifully yet painfully romantic, i mean “they asked “do you love her to death?” i said “speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life" and “because my love for you is higher than words, i've decided to fall silent" could have got jane austen crying and shaking
💗💗
life would be so different if i was a bookshop owner in a small village near some forest who has a secret affair with the local poet
home is the first grave
unknown // catherine lacey // chen chen // silas denver melvin // aloha from hell, richard kadrey // courtney love prays to oregon // unknown // st. lucy’s home for girl’s raised by wolves // x // taylor swift’s “my tears ricochet” // this post @ceemetery
my kofi
wish my life was like a 90's movie where all my friends work in record stores and bookshops and coffee shops and we see really cool bands in small little clubs and get breakfast together and like hang out on roofs and shit
being in your early twenties is like [grocery shopping alone] [having instant noodles for dinner] [remembering random details about that one friend you haven't spoken to in five years] [feeling overwhelming guilt for every purchase that isn't strictly "necessary"] [having midday naps] [finding out through facebook that the girl who was mean to you in high school has a husband and a baby] [falling a little in love with every stranger on public transport] [pretending you're not afraid of being alone] [wondering when you'll feel like a fully realized person] [listening to bands you liked in middle school] [blinking and it's suddenly december] [failing to imagine yourself ten years from now] [feeling like you're running out of time]
“I love you the way my little brother can’t fall asleep unless the bathroom light is on and the way you touch your hands when you’re nervous. Sometimes I think you’re just a habit I should break. Sometimes you’re the only thing keeping me safe in the middle of the night and the only thing that keeps my breath from getting caught in my chest.”
— (via extrasad)
“My mind is obscured by the past, as if there is too much to remember. Muted sadness and nostalgia are overwhelming, but it’s always sad because it’s the past. I don’t feel ready to build new memories. I keep going back, like a holiday. There are so many parts and details.”
— Flora Yin-Wong | Liturgy (via abandonarium)
S2 E1 | S3 E8 | S3 E9 | S5 E1
„You were brave, Mr. Barrow… Very Brave.“
illya kuryakin and napoleon solo being spy boyfriends in the man from uncle
please break my heart