#machar

[perishthethoughts]

Machar by Esteban

[shivsjay]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤicons 120x120 - MACHAE

[alkaloid]

The Stone Cottage | Machar, ON

[that-geeeky-dude]

POOJA!!!!!!!! T_T tu wappas aa gayi

You changed your url hhhhhhhh i was searching for your acc kabse lmao

[charmnecklacebaby]

I had an It's Always Sunny dream last night where the gang and I were on a college spring-break type of island because Dennis wanted to scam on some legal beauties, Dee wanted a break from the gang, and Frank was looking for a maid-whore. Mac and Charlie found out they had free drinks. As per spring break rules you have to flirt with everyone.

For some God awful reason I didn't pack and had to stay with Mac and Charlie. I needed to use a toothbrush and kinda just picked up Mac's. Charlie got upset and asked why I didn't use his and when I said that I didn't think he had one ( nor did I think his big enough ;)) he came back with his an a tape measurer. Turns out Charlie's toothbrush is bigger than Mac's and I laughed so hard I cried until I woke up

[mayelitf]

Ahora, quien se marcha soy yo

Me he cansado de mirarte cruzar la puerta y esperarte siempre con los brazos bien abiertos. Ya no vuelvas, no pierdas tu tiempo. No me encontrarás de nuevo aquí. Me toca partir, y me temo que yo, no voy a regresar. 

No merezco cada una de tus fallas ni que pidas perdón creyendo que así se solucionará todo. Es tan fácil para ti creer que siempre estaré a tu disposición, sin importar cuánto me hieras, sin importar cuánto me falles. Y sé que ha sido mi culpa por permitir esta situación, pero hoy he abierto los ojos y por ello te digo adiós. 

Estás acostumbrado a marcharte a paso lento, dejando la puerta abierta para cuando quieras regresar, pero eso ya no va a pasar. Ya no hay para ti un hogar al cual volver, se destruyó junto con mis ganas de permanecer a tu lado. He apagado la luz, no te espero más.

Prometiste quererme siempre, celebrar mis días felices y ayudarme a poner de pie después de cada caída, y al pasar el tiempo, tú me hacías caer; obtuve tu indiferencia, tus pocas ganas de pasar momentos conmigo y tu silueta alejándose tras la luz del farol. Luego volvías buscando mi amor, pero esta vez, también me voy yo.

No es venganza y mucho menos despecho, es amor propio. Sé lo que merezco y esto ha dejado de serlo. Merezco algo fuerte y completo, tú también lo sabías, pero no luchaste por ello. 

Me voy sin culpas, sin arrepentimientos, sin miedo. Me voy dispuesta a dejarme encontrar por alguien que desee amarme a tiempo completo y no sólo por momentos. Me llevo la fuerza y te dejo los recuerdos, ya no los necesito; ya no te necesito. 

Ahora, quien se marcha soy yo. Y no sabes lo satisfecha que estoy con esta decisión. 

Escrito por: Mayeli Tellez

[notasapleasure]

When the troopship was pitching round the Cape in '41, and there was a lull in the night uproar of    seas and winds, and a sudden full moon swung huge out of the darkness like the world it is, and we all crowded into the wet deck, leaning on    the rail, our arms on each other's shoulders,    gazing at the savage outcrop of great Africa. and Tommy Cosh started singing 'Mandalay' and    we joined in with our raucous chorus of the    unforgettable song, and the dawn came up like thunder like that    moon drawing the water of our yearning though we were going to war, and left us exalted, that was happiness, but it is not like that. When the television newscaster said the second sputnik was up, not empty, but with a small dog on board, a half-ton treasury of life orbiting a thousand    miles above the thin television masts and mists    of November, in clear space, heard, observed, the faint far heartbeat sending back its message steady and delicate, and I was stirred by a deep confusion of feelings, got up, stood with my back to the wall and my    palms pressed hard against it, my arms held    wide as if I could spring from the earth --- not loath myself to go out that very day where    Laika had shown man, felt my cheeks burning with old Promethean warmth rekindled --- ready --- covered my face with my hands, seeing only an    animal strapped in a doomed capsule, but the future    was still there, cool and whole like the moon, waiting to be taken, smiling even as the dog's bones and the elaborate casket of    aluminium glow white and fuse in the arc of re-entry and I knew what I felt was history, its thrilling brilliance came down, came down, comes down on us all, bringing pride and pity, but it is not like that. But Glasgow days and grey weathers, when the    rain beat on the bus shelter and you leaned slightly    against me, and the back of your hand touched    my hand in the shadows, and nothing was    said when your hair grazed mine accidentally as we    talked in a cafe, yet not quite accidentally, when I stole a glance at your face as we stood in a    doorway and found I was afraid of what might happen if I should never see it again, when we met, and met, in spite of such differences    in our lives, and did the common things that in our feeling became extraordinary, so that our first kiss was like the winter morning moon, and as you    shifted in my arms it was the sea changing the shingle that changes    it as if for ever (but we are bound by nothing, but    like smoke to mist or light in water we move, and mix) --- O then it was a story as old as war or man and although we have not said it we know it, and although we have not claimed it we do it, and although we have not vowed it we keep it, without a name to the end

‘The Unspoken’ by Edwin Morgan

[perishthethoughts]