monkeyknifefight:

travelhighlights:

From I Wrote This For You:

Don’t you dare tell me nothing matters. Everything matters. Every fucking drop of rain, every ray of sunlight, every wisp of cloud matters and they matter because I can see them and if I can see them then they can see me and I know that there’s an entire world that cares out there, hiding behind a world that doesn’t, afraid to show who it really is and with or without you, I will drag that world out of the dirt and the blood and the muck until we live in it. Until we all live in it.

id always wished i could write well. sometimes you just come across chunks of words which make you go THAT WAS WHAT I WANTED TO SAY

fuckyeahtvpicspam:

“As he stared at her, he reached around his back and held his own hand, pretending he was holding hers. And at that very moment, she was pretending to be holding his.”

Pushing Daisies 1.01 - “Pie-lette”

(via honeythroat : dreamsincolor : girlmeetsboys : shimmeryshine : lizzymaxia)

oh ♥

fuckyeahtvpicspam:

Pushing Daisies

(via calikalie)

favourite. scene. ever.

monkeyknifefight:

paperbuildings | hxcfairy

acrossoceans:

seaponies | warmwhispers | willmccloud

and it might not even be considered a “good” life, but it is a life, and I am living and breathing and making it work every single day.  I’m not trying to live life like in a song or a movie, or a book.   I’m not living in a fantasy, or even the pursuit of one.  I am just savoring every good sensation, and disregarding the bad ones, and working things out minute by minute.  When you can recognize and appreciate the comforting temperature of a room, the beauty of someone’s speaking voice, the fact that you got the “push or pull” dilemma right on that door handle, things are going really well for you.  You’re going to have to do a lot of shit you don’t want to do, and go a lot of places you don’t want to go, but none of it matters.  All that matters is the little voice inside, the memories you have, the song stuck in your head, that safe place that you take with you everywhere you go. Brave each day, it is going to be alright.  Really, it will be.

IKR

cradletograve:

(via eyesturnedskyward)

before i die, i must make this happen

when does real love begin?
at first it was a fire, eclipses, short circuits, lightning and fireworks; then incense, hammocks, drugs, wines, perfumes; then spasm and honey, fever, fatigue, warmth, currents of liquid fire, feast and orgies; then dreams, visions, candlelight, flowers, pictures; then images out of the past, fairy tales, stories, then pages out of a book, a poem; then laughter, then chastity 
at what moment does the knife would sink so deep that the flesh begins to weep with love ?
at first power, power, then the wound, and love, and love and fears, and the loss of the self, and the gift, and slavery. At first I ruled, loved less; then more, then slavery. slavery to his image, his odor, the craving, the hunger, the thirst, the obsession

;fire, anais nin

sleepanddream:

So maybe I romanticize things. Maybe I think that I’ll end up in a one-sided marriage. Maybe I want someone broken because I like that vulnerability and I think it shows that, at least a one point, you were strong. And you can be again.

And maybe I want someone to take care of me because really, I think I’m always going to be a little girl, no matter how grown up those men think I am. But I also want someone to take care of so that I feel important to just one person.

Sure, I like to feel wanted. Being asked to come home with someone is great. For a minute. Being needed is something else entirely.

Mar 30th, 2009 7:00pm

kills me that this is exactly what i was thinking about earlier today

pushing myself to appear to be perfect is unnecessary. i dont have to have all the answers to solve other’s problems, and i dont have to be constantly available for others. i just have to be real.

;jane austen

mel