() I'm sorry I'm not your kind of perfect
dear 98% of the people that follow me that dont talk to me

syupon:

tamaraldbrennan:

Who are you

Whats your favorite color

Favorite ship

Favorite ice cream flavor

Do you have a cat

Thank 

reblogging again bc I already got some from really cute people, but it makes me unreasonably happy to read these from you SO KEEP ON SENDING THEM 

Anonymous was like: Dirtiest thing you've ever done with someone?

I went missing one time

There were no sex classes. No friendship classes. No classes on how to navigate a bureaucracy, build an organization, raise money, create a database, buy a house, love a child, spot a scam, talk someone out of suicide, or figure out what was important to me. Not knowing how to do these things is what messes people up in life, not whether they know algebra or can analyze literature. William Upski Wimsatt (via justgivehighfives)

ghore:

I’m on a new diet called don’t fucking look at me

When she is sad:

Ask her to dance. Take her hands and pull her up off the ground. She is fluid like water, like the wind and rain. Watch her twirl, round and round, as though she were a tornado.

Sing her a song. She will rest her head on your chest and laugh. ‘You can’t even sing’ she will say, but do not stop. Do not stop until she is begging for your silence with her lips on yours in muffled gasps.

Tell her a story: that time when you were five and fell into a pond and almost drowned. Tell her you are so glad a passerby dived in and saved your life because otherwise you would never have met her.

Sit in silence and trace the veins in her neck with your tongue until she sighs and whispers ‘you are keeping me alive.’ Say that she is doing just fine on her own but hold her a little closer and tighter anyway; she needs it.

"It’s okay. It’s okay to be sad." Sometimes these are the only words you need. Pepper her tear stained cheeks with kisses and say " it’s okay. I’ll be here. I’ll always be here."

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #46 -5 things to do when she is sad” (via blossomfully)
I am afraid of getting older. I am afraid of getting married. Spare me from cooking three meals a day—spare me from the relentless cage of routine and rote. I want to be free… I want, I want to think, to be omniscient. Sylvia Plath written in 1949 at age 17. (via dontbesadlove)
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