THE DAYS GET SHORTER AND THE NIGHTS SMELL COLD

"Please, if you met me yesterday, do not assume I am the same person you are meeting today."
I have a long list of people I want to be.

There’s something so real about holding hands; some kind of complex simplicity, saying so much by doing so little. I love it.

(Source: morwend, via wwashedoutt)

1.
The Victorians honored human hair
because it was the only trait of the body
that remained after death. I shaved my legs
in your shower. I hid long strands of myself
in your pillowcases. That is all that is left.

2.
Thinking of someone else during sex
is a cardinal sin punishable by nothing.

3.
The heart is wanting. The heart
is perpetually two-years-old. The heart
is bad at sharing. The heart is a hungry
gas tank. The heart is not a metaphor.

4.
When the teacher asks you what grade
you think you deserve, you will always say B+.

5.
90% of Americans will vote from Obama
because the night before the election, he will
slow dance with his wife and kiss her forehead
and we will want so badly to believe that
they actually fucking love each other.

6.
Writing a list of ways I could be better
and writing a suicide note are the same thing.

7.
The heart lives in a packed elevator.
It doesn’t know what floor its waiting for
but it wants it wants it wants to get off.

8.
The Victorians believe when you write a poem
from an airplane that moment becomes suspended
in the sky forever, like a ornament in God’s mobile.

So now you know: somewhere between Phoenix
and Las Vegas, a thousand miles up, there you are
like a grocery list pinned to blue.


by Facts Written From An Airplane by Sierra DeMulder (via
crookednose)

moonemoji:

California facts:
-we surf to school
-if we don’t say “dude” at least 10 times a day we will die
-same with “like”
-we cry when it’s 60 degrees Fahrenheit bc it’s cold

(via littleblackjacket)

7051 / REBLOG
This is an apology letter to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go.
It was not my intention to make such a
production of the emptiness between us
playing tuba on the tombstone of a soprano
to try and keep some dead singer’s perspective alive.
It’s just that I coulda swore you had sung me a love song back there
and that you meant it
but I guess sometimes people just chew with their mouth open
so I ate ear plugs alive with my throat
hoping they’d get lodged deep enough inside the empty spots
that I wouldn’t have to hear you leaving
by Buddy Wakefield (via
theskyoutsidethecity)

(via theskyoutsidethecity)

138 / REBLOGfuckyeahmoleskines:

drawing you painting me

deadbishop:

I was reading about Thomas Jefferson’s medical history and

Violent headache for two days after behaving awkwardly in front of a girl he fancied (March 1764, age 20)

(via kilisbutt)

eeveez:

you have no proof that i am not at least one of the members of daft punk

(via custom-username)

97629 / REBLOG
17 / REBLOGcrookednose:

(by Alex Moskow)