"The magic thing about home is that it feels good to leave, and it feels even better to come back."

Wendy Wunder, The Probability of Miracles

(for you) 

(via nofatnowhip)

(Source: simply-quotes, via sayiamwonderful)

(via crownedqueenofprocrastination)

"I think everyone does. Even happy people. They may not admit it to anyone, but I think they feel it. I think they close their eyes, or go for a run, or take a long shower, so that they can forget just for a second who they are and what they have to do day in and day out. Living is hard. And every day our feet get heavier and we pick up more baggage. So, we stop and take a breath, close our eyes, reset our minds. It’s natural. As long as you open your eyes and keep going."

Faking It - Cora Carmack  (via wanduring)

(Source: thewackospecialist, via paranoiainyourveins)

"When someone’s been gone a long time, at first you save up all the things you want to tell them. You try to keep track of everything in your head. But it’s like trying to hold on to a fistful of sand: all the little bits slip out of your hands, and then you’re just clutching air and grit. That’s why you can’t save it all up like that. Because by the time you finally see each other, you’re catching up on the big things, because it’s too much bother to tell about the little things. But the little things are what make up life."

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before #1  (via sparap)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via s-undayevenings)

"

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

"

It’s not that I don’t love you.    (via jaguarz)

Shivers. This is powerful.

(via queeringfeministreality)

(Source: extrasad, via jennifersbody)

"Other people are not medicine."

It took me 9 years to figure that out  (via idcetc)

(Source: slutsandsinners, via jennifersbody)

eustaciavye77:

Sanjai, a 20-years old bull (male elephant), sees himself for the first time in front of a mirror. [x]

elephants are fucking awesome.

(Source: memoriesofelephants, via pumpkinbuttercup)

"Insomnia’s different, I said. It was hard to explain this to people. You know the light that comes on when you open the refrigerator door? Just imagine it stays on all the time, even after you close the door. That’s what it’s like in my head. The light stays on."

Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams (via wordsnquotes)

(via hiscalifornia)

"But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?"

Mark Twain, Autobiography of Mark Twain (via larmoyante)

(via deansjacketfromhell)

"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 missinyouiskillingme)

(via bringme-tothecity)