“Ciò che conta di fronte alla libertà del mare non è avere una nave, ma un posto dove andare, un porto, un sogno, che valga tutta quell'acqua da attraversare.”
— Alessandro D'Avenia, Bianca come il latte, rossa come il sangue
dirt enthusiast
Stranger Things
Three Goblin Art
Claire Keane
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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祝日 / Permanent Vacation

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@closeyoureyesimnevergone
“Ciò che conta di fronte alla libertà del mare non è avere una nave, ma un posto dove andare, un porto, un sogno, che valga tutta quell'acqua da attraversare.”
— Alessandro D'Avenia, Bianca come il latte, rossa come il sangue
If you think you deserve better, you probably do…
“Lo sono sempre stato, un po’ fuori posto e un po’ sbagliato.”
— Max Pezzali
“Ho sempre i capelli spettinati, i vestiti sgualciti, la mente in disordine e il cuore fuori posto.”
— Lucrezia Beha
Sentirsi ogni tanto a fettucce. Capita.
Ilaria Sansò
Have u ever just watched someone move or talk or laugh and ur like wow how the fuck is everything you do so hot
“Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts,rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets these things confused with love, but in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all the pain and makes someone feel wonderful again. Love is the only thing in this world that does not hurt.”
— Liam Neeson - (hatin)
ma tu lo sai che a volte io ti penso sempre?
Gio Evan
“Ma i veri viaggiatori partono per partire e basta: cuori lievi, simili a palloncini che solo il caso muove eternamente, dicono sempre “Andiamo”, e non sanno perché. I loro desideri hanno le forme delle nuvole.”
— Charles Baudelaire
via weheartit
“Ricordi quella domenica noi due e quella panchina al parco? Continuavo a chiedermi se quella fosse la felicità. Sentirmi il cuore così pieno di elettricità da illuminare un paese intero.”
— Natasha Maselli.
“Quella notte è andata così… non c'è stato il lieto fine. Eppure me la ricorderò sempre perché era una notte speciale. Ma io la magia di quella notte, come spesso succede nella vita, non l'ho più ritrovata.”
— Notte prima degli esami
“This is why I left: I saw a life with you. Not in a romantic way, but the way where when I looked at the future I saw you sitting at my dining table, confessing your worries for the 1,800th time. I saw you meeting the love of my life and introducing me to yours. I saw you loving my kids like they were your own and I saw us loving each other - platonically, simply. But through our late night conversations about the world and about our futures - mere kids aspiring to be something great in a city that was always so poor - you spoke more about the way my smile lit your world up instead of what you’d do to create your own. You stopped fantasizing about meeting the love of your life and insisted that I was already in it, despite the fact that I said it wasn’t what I wanted. That this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I caught the lingering stares and the subtle comments. More than anything, I noticed how we changed; how you tried to force something on me that I didn’t want, and how you kept getting hurt in the process - silently blaming me for not reciprocating feelings that I didn’t harbor in the first place. Three years later and I feel the hatred steam off of you when you see me on the corner of my block. I ripped you off of me like a dying limb because I knew that if I held on to you, you’d cling for dear life - never looking forward to another version of your own future again. I left because I’d rather hurt you now and have you move on in due time, as opposed to not at all. I didn’t want you meeting the love of my life with a cold smile and tension wrapped around your first handshake. I didn’t want you to go home at night with no one beside you. I didn’t want you to look at my kids and wish they were ours. I didn’t want you to look backwards. I needed you to look forward. I broke your heart for your own good. But believe me when I say that you broke mine, too.”
— Fri[end]zoned // n.b.
This is what you wanted.
“E il cuore mi si stringe crudelmente nel pensare come tutto finisce e quasi non lascia traccia di sé.”
- Giacomo Leopardi
Notte prima degli esami.📚