Hsin-Yao Tseng
Noah Kahan
occasionally subtle

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Hsin-Yao Tseng
You can never laugh too much or have too many orgasms.
Michael Faudet (via wordsnquotes)
You’re in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed. One child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself.
Case: #273402 Status: Disastrous.
I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years, and then she wasn’t scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters… I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying! I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte’s bed. Across the room underneath Daniel’s crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster. I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, I reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again. “I’m not afraid of you monster!” She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and… She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With. Me. “Move. Over!” Charlotte hisses at me. I do. The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside. I know why Charlotte isn’t afraid of any of my monsters; she’s afraid of her own. Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out. “What the…” I cut Francis’s next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face. “If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity.” I promise to him. As Francis runs from the room he soils himself. I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling.” Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed.
WELL GODAMN, WE HAVE OURSELVES A WINNER
Holy shit I’m gonna cry that’s beautiful.
Every single cursed moment of my tumblr existence has led me here. I am whole. I am complete.
august rolls over and yawns. wakes slow and heavy, stretching like a cat. outside, the sound of birds, the smell of grass. august turns over in an empty bed. his eyes feel swollen and tired. on the nightstand, a note from july - no one carries light like you do.
Jonathan Speed
I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.
John Burroughs (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)
The Pacific Northwest is fucking Perfect
I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.
Sylvia Plath (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)
“Love should be like breathing. It should be just a quality in you, wherever you are, with whomsoever you are, or even if you are alone, Love goes on overflowing from you. It is not a question of being in Love with someone, it is a question of being Love.”
Osho (via weltenwellen)
I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.
Marya Hornbacher (via weltenwellen)
No matter the situation, never let your emotions overpower your intelligence.
Unknown (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)
Love yourself so much that when someone treats you wrong, you recognize it
Rena (via renafromtheheart)
In case anyone didn’t manage to catch it when it was up on YouTube.
What I have to get over: the idea that the value of love rises as the self dwindles.
Susan Sontag, from a diary entry featured in As Consciousness Is Harnessed To Flesh: Journals & Notebooks, 1964 - 1980 (via violentwavesofemotion)
this is my girlfriend, I’m in love
She’s my peace | shot by the talented and kind hearted Mary Margaret Winchell