Wednesday, July 30+225 via source reblog
I didn’t like my name until you said it.
Unknown (via slutstatus)
People always say that it hurts at night and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken. But sometimes it’s 9am on a Tuesday morning and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up. And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much you don’t know what to do with your hands.

Rosie Scanlan, “On Missing Them”  (via yourslyc

(via appetitefortrouble)

1. Lay on the floor of your shower until you can breathe again. Water will always love to love your skin.

2. Start writing with the intention of filling up one page. Write until your pen stops working.

3. Reread a book that once made you cry. Learn something new on every page. Notice how different chapter make you sad. Notice how the book didn’t change and grow; you did.

4. Sleep with your windows open. You can hear both the rain and boys drunkenly singing Frank Sinatra on their deck. Both are equally good.

5. Don’t forget that honey will always taste sweet, but the best way to eat it is off your fingers, laughing.

6. Remember that, sometimes, getting out of bed is enough.

 For unhappy girls who like sitting in the sun (h.f.j.)
Intimacy is not who you let touch you. Intimacy is who you text at 3am about your dreams and fears. Intimacy is giving someone your attention, when ten other people are asking for it. Intimacy is the person always in the back of your mind, no matter how distracted you are.
(via yoursly)
1 2 3 4 5 »