Directly, or indirectly, everything we write is for someone.
moeyhashy (via perfect)
Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her stupid. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer.
Azra.T “this is how you keep her” (via 5000letters)
If they don’t need you, it’s okay. You don’t live for other people.
Dir En Grey, Kyo (via daisy-do)
(Source: everunenchanted, via psitskayla)
People say to you, ‘you’ve changed’, or something like that, well, I hope, for the sake of God that you have changed, because I don’t want to be the same person all my life. I want to be growing, I want to be expanding. I want to be changing. Because animate things change, inanimate things don’t change. Dead things don’t change. And the heart should be alive, it should be changing, it should be moving, it should be growing, its knowledge should be expanding.
Shaykh Hamza Yusuf (via fridafox)
(Source: catchmyvibes, via every-heart-has-a-story)
i don’t actually hate people it just exhausts me being around them for extended periods of time even my friends it’s nothing personal i just actually like being by myself yo
(Source: delvins, via every-heart-has-a-story)
She was a person you would not be surprised to find sitting by herself in a corner of the world where she didn’t belong, writing things in a notebook to prevent the rise of panic.
Alice Munro, “Hold Me Fast, Don’t Let Me Pass” (via pearleyednomad)
(Source: larmoyante, via vintage-visualist)
At what point do you take girls out of school altogether because boys can’t handle it?
Parent of a female teen whose school banned leggings (via oomshi)
(Source: meetingsinthedesert, via jensen-nicole27)