todays bird
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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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oozey mess
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Keni
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Love Begins
One Nice Bug Per Day
izzy's playlists!
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tannertan36
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@li0n-he4rted
Friends.
What are they? You know what hurts the most? Ive always been the single friend. Always. And ive always been there for my girls throughout their relationships no matter what. No matter how many times they ditched me for their boyfriends. & now that im in a serious relationship for the first time in my life, my girls are nowhere to be found. Hm.
Im so in love with you.
A year ago today I made love to my best friend and still to this day I dont know wether to regret it or not.
In a relationship, you need somebody who’s going to call you out, not somebody who’s going to let everything slide. You need somebody who doesn’t want to live without you, but can. Not somebody that is dependent, but somebody who is stronger with you. A relationship is two people, not one
one of my favorite quotes about relationships (via safeguards)
Can I tell you a secret? You don’t have to be in a relationship. I mean it. I know they force it down your throat until you choke on it. Girls aren’t pretty unless they’re wanted. Boys aren’t men unless they’re having sex with someone. People aren’t lovable until they’re dating someone. But a relationship won’t always make you happy, and as wonderful as romance is, it isn’t the only love that exists. I have seen friendships that are deeper and more pure than couples who swear it’s forever - and yet the friendship is the one people ignore. I have heard so often “nobody loves me” out of the mouths of people who are single. And it kills me because if you ask them: where are your parents, your teachers, your classmates, your pets - they say, yes, okay, but it doesn’t count. Of course it counts, love doesn’t diminish just because someone doesn’t want to have sex with you. In fact, doesn’t it sort of make that love more real that they want nothing - not even a date - out of you? It is pretty to be in love. It’s magical, I’m sure. But it’s also wonderful to stop for ice cream in your prom dress with six other girls. It’s also wonderful to go visit the world with nothing but a bunch of buddies who are really excited about learning. The problem is: we’ve made everything about “the one”. But maybe “the one” is just you, loving yourself, having fun, and being happy. Maybe instead of looking for our other halves, we should be piecing ourselves together. Maybe I wasn’t born unfinished. Maybe I am the one who makes myself better.
Single serving size // r.i.d (via inkskinned)
A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life. Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.
this fucks me up every single time
I never expected this to be my most popular poem out of the hundreds I’ve written. I was extremely bitter and sad when I wrote this and I left out the most beautiful part of that class.
After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort.
She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice.
Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation.
The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with.
The divorced ones said they chose to walk away.
Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days.
I no longer fear the day someone who swore I was their universe can no longer see the stars in my eyes as long as they still choose to look until they find them again.
This is so fucking important and I think it’s something I needed right now
My absolute favorite photo of my absolute favorite human.
rip santa.
Working in Retail in under 3 minutes
i had to watch this like 5 times because of no captions but lmao if someone makes a transcript for this it would be bomb
transcript: “So we have these Santas at work, right, okay? We have black and we have white Santas. And they’re like creepy, five-foot tall, lifelike animatronic… like, Santas that hold plates of cookies and milk, and they kinda look like they could wake up and come to life and murder you in your sleep– and they don’t include batteries, but we have these Santas. Like nothing screams ‘festive holiday cheer’ like a big, hulking Santa. Um. Nothin’ will jingle your jangles more. So, um, this woman comes in and she’s like, “Do you have these?” and I’m like, “Oh my god, yeah!” So a couple weeks ago we sold out of our white Santas, and we are down to like, three black Santas. And so, I take her to the aisle, I show her the Santas, and the first thing out of her mouth is, “I’m not racist, but…” and I’m like, well, I can’t– I’m not in the position to decide if you are or not, but if like– if I could use context clues and infer, uh, I would say maybe that you might be. And three, we’re talking about Santa. Like– (stuttering) did we switch subjects? And so, um, I’m in like, I– the next thing that pops out of her mouth is like, “This is not right.” and I’m like, okay, I’m sorry, but this is what the picture was. And she’s like, “No. Santa is white.” And I’m like, oh no, okay. Okay. So I’m in– I’m about to tell her, I’m like, mid-sentence, like, “I’m sorry, do you want me to go call another store, do you need me to, like, write you a raincheck just in case we we get any more.” And she’s like, “This is wrong, I want them taken down.” She interrupts me, says that, and I’m like, (pause). I like, look around, and I’m like, is she talking to me? Is this, like, my own, like, personal hell? But like, of course it is. So, um, I’m like, “I can’t take these Santas down.” And she’s like, “Why not?!” And I’m like, “You either have to buy them, or take them down yourself.” And that was like, the stupidest thing I could have ever said, because– (sighs) she takes this bag, with like, Jesus’s face, like, slammed right in the middle as a design– it’s big– she takes it off her shoulder, and starts beating these black Santas! She starts beating these Santas down, they were like, falling down… and I’m like, oh my god! What– what is happening? So like, I step in the middle of her and these Santas and I’m like, “Ma’am, ma’am, you need to leave, you need to stop, or I’m going to have to call someone.” So she like, stops, and she’s like, beet red, and like, huffin’ and puffin’, and she like, looks at me and I can tell she’s just trying to get like, a one-liner in, and she’s like, “The Santa I know is white.” And then she walks away. And I’m like, well– I’m processing what’s happening, while also thinking, like, the Santa you know? Santa’s not real. So unless you’re using an ouija board to contact good old Kris Kringle, um, from like, B.C. or whenever, I’m like, that’s pretty impressive, but how ya doin’ that. And, um, I– the last thought that ran through my mind is that, I’m like, I would hate to be in the room with her when she finds out that Jesus is not white.”
kissing is great
but wow when you get to kiss someone you have feelings for and you’ve wanted to kiss them for the longest time and you get to stroke their face and you’re so aware of their body and how nice their lips feel
I know I shake when you don’t call and I feel like I can’t breathe when you forget to tell me you love me. I know that sometimes the words that come spilling out of my mouth at 3 AM make me sound crazy. I know that I love you a little too much. I know everything really hurts right now. I hope you know that I will always be here to keep the blood inside your veins. I hope you know that I will always be here to kiss you goodnight even if I fall asleep crying afterwards. I hope you know that you are the only reason I’ve still got stars hidden under my skin. I hope you know that you are the only thing that keeps the flowers in my lungs from dying. I know we’re fucked up. I know that sometimes I make you feel like you’re choking. I hope you know that I’m sorry. I hope you know that I see you in everything. I hope you know that it’s okay. I hope you know that you’re all I want. I hope you know that I think you’re wonderful. I hope you know that I think you’re every sunset and every thunderstorm and every cup of tea in the universe. I hope you know that you are my entire galaxy. I hope you know that I love you.
everything I know, everything I hope that you know (via extrasad)
Im so tired of your mixed signals and your head games. Im sick of you spending night after night holding and kissing on me, pulling me tight, playing with my hair, running your fingers down my back.. im sick of you looking at me everytime I laugh so you can see my face light up when you make eye contact because you know I have feelings for you. Im sick of you inviting me to family events and randomly picking me up to go to the next town with you just so you have someone next to you, & picking me instead of one of your boys who were already with you. Im sick of you leading me on. What I'm the most sick of? How you do all these things in private. You dont do these things in front of your friends... you dont even act like you know me when we go out and you fucking drove my car and myself to the party. Youre embarrassed of me, because Im not skinny, or pretty and Im not the first girl all the guys look at when I walk in the room. I just wish you would let me know what the fuck is going on in your head because Im so fucking tired. Youre destroying me day by day.. and you dont even care.
i think the best feeling is when you make someone that you like a lot laugh and their face lights up and they start giggling and you’re really happy that you were able to make someone so beautiful smile so much
this is my favorite thing in the world
One time I used my retail voice on a coworker and she was like, “Don’t use your customer voice on me, I know you’re dead inside like the rest of us, it’s just frightening and weird”
The other day I asked for a table for two in my customer voice and the waitress squinted at me and I cleared my throat and said “Sorry, still in service mode” and she dropped hers and we swapped stories about our day and my boyfriend was like “You two just became two entirely different people in like .5 seconds…”
I can be bitching up a blue streak about a customer-from-hell while the store is empty, and when the phone rings swap over to my retail voice practically in mid-sentence. I even have managers and salespeople from other stores in the chain fooled into thinking I’m infinitely friendly and helpful, and my manager’s husband thinks I’m one of the most professional people in the store. One assistant manager’s daughter dubbed me Perky-Pants because she mostly dealt with me over the phone, and was shocked to the core when I dropped an F-bomb at her graduation picnic.
The acting required in the service industry is beyond the pale. My cousin freaked out when she came to see me at work because I was all smiling and nice while helping someone who was asking inane questions and who basically forced me to walk them to the product and put it in their fucking hand but I was nice as pie until I turned around to walk away and my demeanor changed back to normal and I muttered “what a fucking moron” under my breath as I got back to my cousin. She just looked at me shocked and said “no wonder you’re so exhausted when you get home.”
this is actually referred to as emotional labor in criminology, and is considered one of the hardest forms of labor
The art of bullshit is strong in the service industry
I work at a fast food place and we have a regular that comes in and has continually swore at some of my employees and once I was taking his order and I was being extremely nice because I didn’t want him to swear at me and he ended up doing it anyway and right away I turned my smile to a frown and in my most stern voice I told him to get out of my store. There were children present and a mom who was looking dead at me.
I often get that at work. “How are you so happy today?” I am forcing it so hard 😂
