I once dated a writer and

Writers are forgetful,

but they remember everything.
They forget appointments and anniversaries,
but remember what you wore,
how you smelled,
on your first date…
They remember every story you’ve ever told them -
like ever,
but forget what you’ve just said.
They don’t remember to water the plants
or take out the trash,
but they don’t forget how
to make you laugh.

Writers are forgetful
because
they’re busy
remembering
the important things.

(Source: ofheightsandhollows)

postageletters:

At this very moment I highly apprieciate the ladies who’ve been there for me through thick and thin. 

I’ve been told numerous times how hard it is to be friends with girls, but nothing, NOTHING is more cherishable then true girl friends. 

 

 

(Source: ashletsparty)


she kept trying to convince herself that it had finally happened, the change in him that matched his kind words, but each following moment brought panic within her and he tasted sweet like downfall.  she was lost at how to tear herself apart from what she had sewn into her skin.
by jenna mae

she kept trying to convince herself that it had finally happened, the change in him that matched his kind words, but each following moment brought panic within her and he tasted sweet like downfall.  she was lost at how to tear herself apart from what she had sewn into her skin.

by jenna mae

(Source: ukitai)

Finished!

Finished!

looking at old pictures of myself and realizing how much I miss my long hair :/

looking at old pictures of myself and realizing how much I miss my long hair :/

I am tired of trying to hold things together that cannot be held. Trying to control what cannot be controlled. I am tired of denying myself what I want for fear of breaking things I cannot fix.

Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus (via theemotionalrescue)

(Source: larmoyante)

All I wanted was simplicity.

It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.

Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (via johnsteinbeck-)

(Source: dormio)

(i am) the writer by caroline kuhn

(i am) the writer by caroline kuhn

by caroline kuhn

“It needs to get warmer soon for this weather is driving me insane; you creep into my mind when I don’t want any of this anymore. I’m tired of feeling like second hand smoke. Nothing will change the fact that you held that pipe for me from behind, lit it and watched me cough.”