[perrfectly]

[bsfnr]

[cuntflicts]

[mexicanist-deactivated20151125]

[oofpoetry]

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 oofpoetry)

I can’t believe this poem is still going around... I forgot I even had this account. It’s been years.

[sevensaltedalmonds-deactivated2]

[sosuperawesome]

[dashofcharlie]

Jenny 🎨

[peytonfulford]

[deceive-remade-deactivated20171]

me not understanding a movie: wow… the cinnamon tography

[ngarigo]

[decision]

[untrustyou]

[takashiyasui]

Everyday life in Tokyo

[5oil]

[love]

The Dreamers (2003)

[theparisreview]

From tiny experiences we build cathedrals.

Orhan Pamuk, from “The Art of Fiction No. 187,″ interview by

Ángel Gurría-Quintana, Paris Review (No. 175, Fall/Winter 2005)