Anonymous said: Who are you?

I am - the most beautiful boogie man, the most beautiful boogie man, let me be your favourite nightmare, close your eyes and I’ll be right there.

edgeandvoidfriction:

Sometimes I think someone dreamed me up as their fantasy girl. To the person who imagined me, I was perfect… and then they died… and now I’m too specifically abstract to ever really be loved. I belong to no one… but I used to be someone’s dream girl.  

theappleppielifestyle:

fygirlcrush:

Men have written thousands of stories about how having a toxic relationship with their father has completely ruined their lives

but then make fun of girls for having “daddy issues”

ok.

 - via fygirlcrush

Tags | uh huh |
"One thing I do know about intimacy is that there are certain natural laws which govern the sexual experience of two people, and that these laws cannot be budged any more than gravity can be negotiated with. To feel physically comfortable with someone else’s body is not a decision you can make. It has very little to do with how two people think or act or talk or even look. The mysterious magnet is either there, buried somewhere deep behind the sternum, or it is not. When it isn’t there (as I have learned in the past, with heartbreaking clarity) you can no more force it to exist than a surgeon can force a patient’s body to accept a kidney from the wrong donor. My friend Annie says it all comes down to one simple question: “Do you want your belly pressed against this person’s belly forever —or not?"
— Elizabeth Gilbert (via purplebuddhaproject)

Hmmm

(via lunar-cry)
"One question that has always intrigued me is what happens to demonic beings when immigrants move from their homelands. Irish-Americans remember the fairies, Norwegian-Americans the nisser, Greek-Americans the vrykólakas, but only in relation to events remembered in the old country. When I once asked why such demons are not seen in America, my informants giggled confusedly and said. “They’re scared to pass the ocean, it’s too far,” pointing out that Christ and the apostles never came to America."
— Richard Dorson, ‘A Theory for American Folklore’, American Folklore and the Historian.

(Source: mister-selfdestruct)

All the words of knowledge

shitmystudentswrite:

Malcolm X used a dictionary to convey words of knowledge into his brain.

Tags | holy fuck |
"As many critics have pointed out, terrorism is not an enemy. It is a tactic. Because the United States itself has a long record of supporting terrorists and using terrorist tactics, the slogans of today’s war on terrorism merely makes the United States look hypocritical to the rest of the world."

restodevida:

Edvard Munch - “From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them, and that is eternity.”

(Source: auilic)

Tags | funeral plans |

Anonymous said: You are the most remarkable human I have ever seen. May you always be loved, authentic and creatively fulfilled. You deserve every happiness.

Well, I do what I can.

Don’t read the YouTube comments man, don’t fucking do it.

Tags | note to self |
rosalarian:

pourquoi-nutmeg:

nortonism:

The thing about this is that sculptures like these in art history were for the male gaze. Photoshop a phone to it and suddenly she’s seen as vain and conceited. That’s why I’m 100% for selfie culture because apparently men can gawk at women but when we realize how beautiful we are we’re suddenly full of ourselves…

YES.

Girls don’t let anyone tell you loving yourself is vanity.

rosalarian:

pourquoi-nutmeg:

nortonism:

The thing about this is that sculptures like these in art history were for the male gaze. Photoshop a phone to it and suddenly she’s seen as vain and conceited. That’s why I’m 100% for selfie culture because apparently men can gawk at women but when we realize how beautiful we are we’re suddenly full of ourselves…

YES.

Girls don’t let anyone tell you loving yourself is vanity.

(Source: nevver)

"I wanna do bad things to you, but good things for you."

I find the things that never were to be just as beautiful as the things that are. In every sentence that ends in hello, every fleeting moment of eye contact, and gushing smile, there’s the potential for connections that all the famous writers we love both lament, and covet. My heart hurts for the beautiful things I never had, but I’m content with the lessons learned, and with what actually has come to me. I have fallen in love more times than I can count, and yet I never fear hitting the ground. Forgive yourselves for your heavy hearts. Forgive the past, because what you call mistakes rarely are. Cherish the potential.

(Source: mister-selfdestruct)

Tags | prose |
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