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I do things, capture them and share.
On good days, I feel too much.

✰ MEET THE BLOGGER ✰
Ok ok so I finally got around to do this! I’m sooo sorry but I did it a while back and just found it in my drafts again hahah. If you’re intrigued, keep reading, if not, don’t.

Tagged by themorningview (thanks darlin’! Although your answers were already perfection, how do I top that?)

Name: Melina

Age: 20

Gender: les females

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12:03 am     8 notes
September 30 2014

I want everything for you.
I want nothing from you.

— (via shadow-writer)


11:16 pm     50 notes
September 29 2014

Yeah, you never said a word
You didn't send me no letters
Don't think I could forgive you
See, our world is slowly dying
I'm not wasting no more time
Don't think I could believe you

I hated this song because it was everyfuckingwhere over the summer, in stores, in bars, on the radio and on TV, it felt like 24/7. But this cover makes it alright again. Damn, I’m in love with her vocals.

(Source: sintras)


11:14 pm     13 notes
September 29 2014

Realisations #1

Coming back to your favorite Dutch bar in Berlin isn’t as fun anymore when you come back first time after the world cup with your peers that don’t have any clue that your bra is hanging up there over the HUP HUP HOLLAND scarf along with a few (don’t even ask me how it got there. It was a Holland penalty win.).


12:55 am     3 notes
September 28 2014

Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.

— F. Scott Fitzgerald (The Great Gatsby)

(Source: , via agentlemenscoup)


7:37 pm     68,433 notes
September 27 2014

The part of autumn where it’s chilly but sunny and the trees are all colourful is finally hitting Berlin and I couldn’t be happier about this 🍂🍃

The part of autumn where it’s chilly but sunny and the trees are all colourful is finally hitting Berlin and I couldn’t be happier about this 🍂🍃


7:16 pm      9 notes
September 27 2014

"So it is true, you don’t mention their name?"

"No, never."

"Gelsenkirchen, what’s that? Ich weiss nicht was das ist. Wie war das? Gell? Gelsen? Kirchen?"

"What? Who? I don’t know se word you say."

Here’s something for you in case you’re interested in German football and in what was going on today.

(Source: fearofwinning)


5:52 pm     4 notes
September 27 2014

entrepreneuer:

*pokes Dortmund with a stick* Are they alive?

I’m crying because this is so perfect.

entrepreneuer:

*pokes Dortmund with a stick* Are they alive?

I’m crying because this is so perfect.


5:46 pm      2 notes
September 27 2014

My dear Berlin,

your current windy, rainy, 10-degrees nature makes me want to crawl up in my sheets with the one I love after I get home just to watch the type of movies that make me cry while he holds me and maybe, maybe builds me a blanket fort afterwards to cheer me up again. Oh, and hot coco, please.

You know what I get to do instead? Go work my sweat at the gym. Seems equally cozy, nh?

I may need to start dating. I can feel it already, this winter is going to be cold.


6:55 pm     6 notes
September 22 2014

Oh wow. 
Earphones required.

(Source: pitched-music, via canyoufillthissilence)


2:21 pm     52,997 notes
September 22 2014

You kiss me in my dreams and my skin gets tight. You steal my heart right out of my mouth and I let you. I wake up sore and tired and spend my day groggily searching for the words to tell you that I’d have you in any way if you’d let me. I’ve never met you, but I’d kiss you in dark alleys and hold your hand in crowded subway cars and roll on top of you in the morning and let you hold me down at night, if you’d let me. I’d suffer a few thousand miles just to wake up every morning and know you are mine.

You kiss me in my dreams and I am a pulled canvas, waiting for you to come and touch me for the first time and paint every inch of my skin with what it means to be loved by you.

— Kristen Fiore // Art School Love Songs 

(via girlvswhale)


10:48 pm     297 notes
September 21 2014

alfaazkibarsaaat:

I’ve learnt that no matter how many good people you surround yourself with, loneliness will kick into your spine just to let you know that he’s the only one who really understands you. That the best writing comes with the worst feelings and hearts aren’t symmetrical and breaking would be simpler than being bruised over and over in the very same spot. That an unanswered text can feel like that missing tooth your tongue keeps slipping back to even though you know that something’s gone. I’ve learnt that we have too many types for love, and not enough fonts that we’re willing to try. That I haven’t written an honest poem in months and I’m not sure what that makes me. 

My grandfather died. Everyday, I listen as my grandmother asks God why he didn’t take her with him and I wonder if love is really worth it at all even though I know that it is. I have this song that I promised myself I’d listen to on the plane ride I take out of all this bullshit, but I’ve forgotten its name. I want the place that feels like home and finally getting away all at the same time. It scares me that that place can be a person and people leave and stab and scar and always die. My grandfather died. Sometimes I remember the things he used to say to me but I’ve forgotten what his voice sounds like. 

I’m hoping that if I put enough honest things down on a page it’ll make it worth reading sometime. Is it possible to miss who you are going to become? Is there a name other than distance for the space between you and someone else, and if so, how do you make it go away? I can’t figure out why I feel like I have to apologize every time I tell someone how I feel. When did my own frayed flesh and clumsy blood become a burden in my own body? I want someone to kiss my chemistry, to catch my tantrums, to hold me on a rainy day and still know why my cheeks are wet. I want honest, I want what the shoreline gives to the sea- a reason to keep coming back; a reason to believe.


6:30 pm     77 notes
September 19 2014

Because goosebumps.

(Source: fyeahhozier)


9:24 pm     105 notes
September 18 2014

I want to come home to you and taste the waiting on your lips. I want the roses in my hand to fall on the floor because of the impact of your embrace. I want my nails etched into the trench of your back as you bury your head into my collarbone, while your lips unintentionally press against my neck. I want to feel the beating of your heart as it brings me to my knees. I want to taste the desire seeping through your skin and hear the distress exhaled of your lungs. I want your sigh of relief and I want you endlessly.
I want every inch of you as you’ve already taken me.

Connotativewords | jl | You and Me (via connotativewords)

(via connotativewords)


2:35 am     13,665 notes
September 18 2014