“Stay is a sensitive word. We wear who stayed and who left in our skin forever.”

Nayyirah Waheed

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"Uhm excuse me, humans, this isn’t all for you!" #breakfast

"Uhm excuse me, humans, this isn’t all for you!" #breakfast

“Time does not heal, time ignores, and it ignores with a giant fucking exit sign scripted with “This is a wound that has burdened you for too long, I will stitch it together for you, but remember that this is a ticking bomb that will explode when you find the courage to touch any familiar home with a smile and a heartbeat, be careful.”

Hayden Cooper - Slam Poetry

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Copa del Rey, whiskey and someone cooking for me. Damn yes ¡vamos Barca!
(Sometimes I think I’m male after all.)

Copa del Rey, whiskey and someone cooking for me. Damn yes ¡vamos Barca! (Sometimes I think I’m male after all.)

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Sunny Berlin Academy of Arts, peeps 💁

Sunny Berlin Academy of Arts, peeps 💁

“I don’t just want to take your breath away. I want to rip it from your mouth and keep it locked away between my teeth. You can only have it back if you kiss me again.”

Meggie Royer, Literary Sexts (via larmoyante)

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Hashtag:stayinbedalldaybecausepurpleweddingandmadmen

Hashtag:stayinbedalldaybecausepurpleweddingandmadmen

lydiastilnskis:

Angus & Julia Stone - The Devil’s Tears

Just yes. Just yes.

blankpagesandinvisibleink:

i don’t know
how long i stood
there in the shower 
watching water
spill from my nipples
like twin waterfalls.

i just know i miss you.

Funny how one and a half years later (after I reblogged this first) I still find myself in that same situation, in that same blank mindset sometimes.
By now, I’m living in a completely new environment, in a city that could not be more of an opposite to my hometown if it tried, I face a different shower wall on a daily basis and have other reasons to get out of bed in the morning. Missing him doesn’t even cross my mind for weeks and then one morning, I blink rapidly as I stare at the number on the calendar and just whisper “fuck” to myself.
I still feel this way, after everything and all that time. I can’t tell you why or how I do. I can only tell you it’s still him. And how once again I stand under the showerhead and wish I could unfeel it. How I wish I could just forget, so badly. 

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boeck:

Berlin, Berlin (by nehemias colindres)

A poetic visualization of a city’s manifesto.

"Losing yourself is the only way."
This is stunningly honest and real and beautiful. 

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Brb cooking myself to death.

Brb cooking myself to death.

Living alone.

When you live alone long enough, alone is no longer synonymous with lonely. After a while, you fill up a space. With your voice. With your scent. With your music. With your stuff. 

You learn to sleep like a starfish, or spooning your books and your laptop. You have no qualms about drip drying your bras over the shower rod or drinking the entire pot of coffee.You stop cooking for one and just cook. Or you don’t. Sometimes you eat peanut butter out of the jar and drink orange juice from the bottle, and call it dinner. 

Some Saturday mornings, you’ll masturbate twice and read six chapters in a book before even brushing your teeth. You’ll leave your shoes at the front door, your hair in the bathroom sink, and a weeks worth of mail on the kitchen counter and no one will give a shit. You’ll come home after a bad day and vent to your dog, who will listen intently and lick your toes without irritating you further by offering well intentioned but impractical advice. 

When you live alone long enough, you learn that someone can love you without fucking you simultaneously. You learn how to share yourself or sequester yourself as needed and on your own terms. You learn when to let people in, and most importantly, you learn when to triple lock the door and pretend no one’s home.

(Source: shadow-writer)

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