"You can’t find intimacy—you can’t find home—when you’re always hiding behind masks. Intimacy requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain level of you exposing your fragmented, contradictory self to someone else. You’re running the risk of having your core self rejected and hurt and misunderstood."
Junot Diaz  (via virginalvalour)
cutepuppyoftheday:

Today’s Cute Puppy

cutepuppyoftheday:

Today’s Cute Puppy

"The Bucket residence, the lady of the house speaking."
Sylvia Plath (via incorrectsylviaplathquotes)
"

The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found
A hedgehog jammed up against the blades,
Killed. It had been in the long grass.

I had seen it before, and even fed it, once.
Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world
Unmendably. Burial was no help:

Next morning I got up and it did not.
The first day after a death, the new absence
Is always the same; we should be careful

Of each other, we should be kind
While there is still time.

"
Philip Larkin, The Mower (via fishingboatproceeds)
"Codependency isn’t sexy. It isn’t romantic. It’s built with a fuse and will surely burn out. The healthiest thing you can say to the one you love is, “I would be okay without you, and that’s why I choose to stay.”"
LB, A Few Things About Love (via lilgivenchyprincess)
"

I lay on the cream shag carpet with my brother
and argue what a kobold is, and is not. I am nine.
Behind the oblong dresser in the basement
is a white stub of chalk with a wolf spider
crouching on it. It does not know I am about to pick it up.

When I am twenty-one, I clutch a cold ten dollar bill.
The gas attendant has a gold tooth.
Says, what are you all dressed up for, missy.
I smooth the gray wool of my bridge coat.
A bell chimes and my shoulder blades flinch.
I cannot see the snowflakes melting into my cuffs.
No eyes watch my body shuffle back to the car
across the ice, no witnesses.

Years later, a lover’s shadow traipses diagonally
across the floor of the limehouse. He’s just told me
he didn’t fall in love with me. The moon in splinters
across stack piles of buildings. I open his refrigerator,
gulp milk from a glass bottle.
There is nothing left for me to do.

My brother has been dead for nine years. A kobold:
a kind of sprite with thin, ivy-colored arms.
See, he is not here to dispute this.
This is what I think when the lover asks why I am
so quiet. My body shaped like a C at the foot of his bed.
My fingers coiled in blankets. Thick and coconut white.
I miss everything.

"

Blue Hour (Japan), 2013
Josef Hoflehner

Blue Hour (Japan), 2013

Josef Hoflehner

chicagobowls:

Childish Gambino’s thoughts on Ferguson.

to-do list

relatively soon, I need to: 

  1. figure out what to eat for dinner
  2. make dinner
  3. research for article
  4. do laundry
  5. plan meals for next week
  6. get in touch with another human being
  7. change class schedule around
  8. begin packing for my second move
"I will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again."
Charles Bukowski (via ive-become-comfortably—numb)