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"Oscar Wilde said that if you know what you want to be, then you inevitably become it - that is your punishment, but if you never know, then you can be anything. There is a truth to that. We are not nouns, we are verbs. I am not a thing - an actor, a writer - I am a person who does things - I write, I act - and I never know what I am going to do next. I think you can be imprisoned if you think of yourself as a noun."
Stephen Fry (via purplebuddhaproject)

1 week ago · reblog · 10,423 notes


1. I was drunk off shitty vodka he was tall and looked like a boy I used to love. I pressed my forehead against the glass window and told him I loved being high up and he told me to come back to bed where it was dark and warm and I couldn’t see all the lights and the little people swarming 63 floors down. he told me his little brother’s name and I used to remember it. I’ve forgotten by now.

2. he kissed me tasting like tequila and trying to make me something that I wasn’t. he kissed me because I was there and he didn’t want to hurt my feelings. writing about him makes my blood stand still I think I’ll stop before my arteries start to clog.

3. I was sucking a cherry lollipop and feeling like Lolita, he was throwing his shoulders back and thinking about soccer season. I put my lollipop in his mouth and he said “why don’t we have this conversation walking”. under the trees at night before the cops shut the party down he put his hands up my shirt and then got bored when I wouldn’t fuck him with my mouth. sometimes when I see him I smile a little like “maybe…if you had waited another minute…”

4. I took the L train to Brooklyn it was hot and sticky and I was worried he wouldn’t like my hair. when I wandered into the bar I didn’t recognize him until he touched my shoulder. he said he didn’t like sleeping because it was boring and he stuck his fingers in hot wax and he rolled me a cigarette and then apologized when I told him I’d quit last year but I’d smoke it anyway. his apartment was full of stupid art and I don’t know why he never texted me after that night. maybe he found out I was too young for him. maybe when I kissed him he tasted high school on my lips.

5. he was hands, hands, hands, touching me in the shallow water of a man-made lake. he was in my hair and falling into wet sand his lips were all over my chest he murmured “don’t leave me what am I going to do without you.” I left the next day. “you’ll be fine.” I wish he had left bruises on my skin but he is far too kind for that and he calls his little cousins cook, short for cookie.

five boys I kissed after I fell out of love (via porn4smartgirls)

1 week ago · reblog · 1,923 notes



untitled by jen hammer on Flickr.

This is my son’s favorite book! So cute.







you’re perf

i wanna reblog this a thousand times due to the accuracy

it makes me sad that so many people can relate to this ._. I wish none of you felt this way




Just because I want to fuck you until we both can’t move does not diminish the fact I want to hold your hand and watch movies and build pillow forts with you and go to the store and buy tampons for you when you’re on your lady week.

Prince charming!


1 week ago · reblog · 93,652 notes


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