July 2010
34 posts
2 tags
Jul 31st
4 tags
Jul 30th
2 tags
Jul 30th
1,227 notes
2 tags
Jul 29th
244 notes
3 tags
Jul 29th
4 tags
Jul 28th
2 tags
“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used...”
– Arundhati Roy (via unexpectedmoments, kari-shma)
Jul 27th
2,116 notes
4 tags
Jul 27th
33 notes
3 tags
Jul 26th
21 notes
3 tags
Jul 26th
2,400 notes
3 tags
Jul 26th
87 notes
3 tags
Jul 23rd
347 notes
3 tags
Jul 23rd
2 tags
Jul 22nd
62 notes
2 tags
Jul 22nd
149 notes
2 tags
Jul 22nd
54 notes
2 tags
Jul 21st
22 notes
3 tags
It rained an avalanche today. Streaks of yellow, blue, purple from the glint of the sun gave way to armies of liquid pellets shot from above. I woke up to the sounds of shards in millions cutting into concrete, went outside, where the trees were cowering and stray people were scuttling like ants under star shaped covers and pretending that a roaring cloudburst like this didn’t affect them,...
Jul 20th
1 note
2 tags
There once was a spark that carried a torch for a bale of straw. “Love isn’t everything”, said the latter consolingly. “I’d hate to see a beautiful friendship go up in smoke.”
Jul 19th
3 tags
Jul 19th
859 notes
3 tags
Jul 18th
263 notes
3 tags
Jul 18th
5,010 notes
3 tags
How I Met Your Mother: HOW TO TAKE PERFECT... →
Step 1: Put on a suit. Just kidding. You’re already wearing one. Right? RIGHT?! Step 2: Stand in front of a full-length mirror and practice your “perfect pose.” Things to focus on: angling your body in relation to the lens so you appear strong (think Barack Obama). Also, you’ll ant to broaden your shoulders to appear extra manly (think Hillary Clinton). Step 3: When you’re at a venue...
Jul 16th
24 notes
4 tags
Jul 16th
6 notes
3 tags
Jul 15th
3,441 notes
5 tags
Jul 15th
1 tag
numbertwopensyl asked: I love how you love Thomas Gibson too. Makes me happy I'm not alone lmfao.
Jul 15th
3 tags
Jul 14th
321 notes
2 tags
Jul 14th
2 tags
In the ephemeral moment the sky began to cry,  its weeping for the forgotten echoed the darkening crimson struggling through my tired veins. Like a song that had been sung for too long, like the voice tired and hoarse and struggling to pull through for just another flickering high; and like the rhythm so beaten, so uninspiring and too same-old, same-old to recover the once upon a time mellifluous...
Jul 13th
3 tags
Jul 13th
6,117 notes
4 tags
Jul 11th
148 notes
2 tags
Falling into Fitzgerald’s wildly beautiful painted dreams, greeting the Greek gods and their mortal wars in The Iliad for Lit Hum in the fall, rereading Deathly Hallows behind hazy smoke swirls and its mystical intrigue. This is my life now, as it is. Deflecting hard yellow bullets on the tennis court, thundering down the gravel past the wind and the trees, jumping into funny contortions in...
Jul 10th
2 tags
When I was innocent, I lived in peach dreams, swimming, floating, and brimming with sweet, sparkling, flowing youth. They melded together with buttery yellow promises of forever friends, and lilac butterflies of unspoken actions that flitted around so much more. We were young, we were happy, we had it all. We were surrounded by puffs of silver clouds, which were swirling, glistening of the...
Jul 9th