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Sometimes I feel like the way I clean my room reflects on how I deal with life in general.

I don’t even care if I’ve reblogged this before.

It makes me happy knowing that we have an entire subgroup of twitter users that prepare some freshly cut pinapple for their significant other before they visit. This is very sweet.

it hurt when I stumbled across her. she was like broken glass all along the floor. but it was beautiful and my curiosity got the best of me. I remember looking at her and all I could see was pain. she had this insane look of desperation; you could almost feel it. and yet her eyes were still hollow; like the life had been sucked out of her. I wanted to pick up her pieces. I wanted to put her back together. and so I tried. I really did. I got a little cut along the way. the more I tried to fix her the more fragile I became myself but I didn’t care. I wanted to see her happy. every time I made her laugh I thought about how I wanted to make her laugh forever. she was getting better. eventually she was put together enough to get up and walk away. but she didn’t take me with her. and I’ve been stuck sitting here where I first found her. wondering if the pieces left on the floor are hers or mine. I should probably get the fuck up.

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL OHMYGOD

wow..

This actually fucking hurt to read.

fuck

girls: spank me i’ve been naughty

me: its okay we all make mistakes 

ha by aubrey casey

what’s better than this?

lol yes, so then i can shave.

     One minute, 37 seconds.      My legs are shaking. Holy cow, there is no way I can do this. None.      One minute, 29 secods.      I glance around at the faces surrounding the room. Of course my Meeting would take place in the gross, overcrowded cafeteria.      One minute, six seconds.      Somewhere within these four walls, someone has the exact same countdown on their wrist. They’re going through the exact same pressure as me.       54 seconds.      Mom said I should be excited, not nervous. Yet I still find myself wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I can’t believe she talked me into wearing a dress. I mean, shouldn’t  my Soul Mate meet me as I normally am? All plain jeans, blah shirts, and wild brown curls?      30 seconds.      Something deep within me tells me to stand up. I do, drawing the attention of my tablemates. They all know too. They smile encouragingly up at me. I chew my lip nervously.      25 seconds.      That same feeling pulls me towards the center of the room. My stomach drops away from me as I take a step in that direction.      20 seconds.      I continue in that direction. With each step the tempo of my heart picks up.      19. Faster.      18. Quicker.      17. More rapid.      16.  It’s racing.      Oh my god this is it. The moment my life changes forever.      My eyes search frantically around the cafeteria, searching for someone who looks as nervous as me. For someone who’s heading towards their future with no sense of direction like me.      10 seconds.      The feeling directs me slightly to the left. I turn to accomodate.      5. My heart has given up entirely.      4. I stop walking.      3. Just waiting left.      2. Everything is about to change.      1. Deep breath.

     0000 d 00 h  00 m  00 s

     Someone bumps my shoulder. I twirl around and my gray eyes meet blue, blue ones.      “Hello there, love. It appears as though we’re Soul Mates then, eh?”      As my words fail me, the only thing I can think is “I’m so glad I shaved this morning.”

 I watch my friend carefully. Her excitement is glowing all over her pretty face. Exactly 2 minutes left, she tells me. We’re waiting at the bus stop and the bus is coming in two minutes. I think she hoped she’d meet them on a beach at sunset or something.  ”I mean that’s ok - these things can’t always be romantic I mean my mum met dad when he was working at the book store and it’s not like you can plan it to be romantic I just hoped, I mean everyone hopes don’t they-” she breaks off, looking at me awkwardly. “Sorry. It’s just a big day for me you know.” Yes I do know. You’ve been going on about it for the past year. I smile at her.  ”Don’t worry. You nervous? You’ll be ok, you always are,” I grin, determined not to ruin this for her. It’s selfish of me to be moody. This is her future being determined. Right here. In now, precisely 1 minute 30 seconds.  She smiles at me, but it isn’t quite reaching her eyes. She’s restless and keeps tapping her foot. Her eyes are wide with.. fear? Excitement? Nerves? Probably all of them and a thousand more things I can’t imagine. She keeps checking her wrist. So do I. The bus comes around the corner. 1 minute 10 seconds.  ”Hey. I’ll leave you alone now ok? The bus is here. I’ll sit a couple of seats away, and be there if you need me,” I say, squeezing her arm reassuringly. “Good luck.” I hope it sounded sincere.  The bus pulls up and I climb on first, taking a quick glance at her while I give the driver my ticket. She’s shaking and looks a little green. I want to give her a hug but know I shouldn’t interrupt now. I look at the passengers and it’s full of pensioners. My heart starts beating frantically. What? I can’t see anyone else at the bus stop. But she’s only 18, she can’t end up with a 80 year old.   I turn around and look at her - she’s breathing hard. The bus driver asks if she’s ok but she ignores him. Her eyebrows are creased and her face is flushed. Oh. Oh no. Stay calm. Someone is probably late. I give her a thumbs up and try to smile reassuringly. I think it’s more of a grimace.  I take a seat near the back. Look at my watch. 25 seconds. She sits down a few seats away.

 Suddenly a dark shape runs past my window and a boy jumps on the bus. He has that same frantic look in his eyes. I breathe out with relief.  ”Yeah get on, we’re running late,” the driver says, taking his ticket. The boy looks around, carefully stepping towards the seats. He’s tall and handsome, holding a sketchbook. I smile slightly; my friend hates art.  4 seconds  He spots her.  3 seconds  His eyes widen as he walks closer, as if being pulled by an invisible rope.  2 seconds  My friend stands up too, that same rope tying her to him.  1 second -  ”I was worried the bus would leave. No way could I miss meeting my soul mate!” he jokes, though he looks just as nervous as she. They smile at each other as they both sit down together. I can’t hear what they’re talking about.

 I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Suddenly I’m crying. Hot tears dropping down my cheeks.

 I look at my wrist, scratching at it. Trying to get rid of it. 

 The numbers have never changed.

 They’ve always been at 0.

Oh my god that last one…. My heart… The feels….

AGH ALL OF YOU WRITE A BOOK THIS VERY INSTANT. PLEASE.

this is beautiful and everyone needs to read it

i hate you tumblr, fucking breaking my goddamn heart

Then, one day, you’re having dinner with a friend you’ve known for as long as you can remember (or perhaps a friend of the family), and you finally talk to them about your counter. You’re crying, explaining that it’s always been at 0, and so you must not have a soul-mate.

Their eyes widen. Tears begin to form, and they throw their arms around you.

"Mine has always been at 0 too."

And that’s when you know…

10 seconds: the doorbell rings, i get out of my chair 5 seconds: i give the man my money 0 seconds: i open the box. it is the most glorious pizza i have ever seen in my life.

This post always has different stories on it and I always have to read it and reblog it

I had heard plenty of stories, from just about everyone, about the run up to their clock ticking out and who appeared in that final moment. It all sounded great and I couldn’t wait for the moment I could stop watching my wrist, couldn’t wait for the moment where everything would fall into place and I’d know, I’d just know how things were supposed to be. The thought thrilled me, and it got me through the years of waiting and watching people in twos when I was still solo. 

With my final seconds running away, I displayed the same old signs. My heart was racing, my palms were sweating - shit, sweaty hands, what if he wants to hold hands, fuck - my legs were shaking badly so it was a miracle I was sitting down, and my mind was going a thousand miles an hour just wondering who he could be. 

You see, they tell you all the stories about the moment he appears. They allow you to believe that the moment he’s there, everything is perfect and you’re gonna know yourself better than ever because you’re gonna know whose job it is to get to know you. But they don’t tell you how many moments you get with him after that defining moment of interaction. The clock was ticking down. It was finally allowing us, both deprived of the other for however many fucking years, to meet, and kiss, and love - 

The moment we saw each other, we knew. But there was still space between us and a few seconds left. My legs were like jelly but still, they stood, and I felt empowered for those last few seconds because I could see him, and he was running, and he was so close. In his excitement and his desperation, he saw me, and only me, and there was an expanse of tarmac between us and metal monsters that were as naive to him as he was to them. 

As he opened his mouth to breathe his first greeting, I lost sight of him. He was gone, so suddenly, and it was as if I had imagined his presence all along. One pedestrian screamed, and as my ears were filled with sounds of distress, it dawned on me. We were destined to be each other’s only, and he wasn’t destined to meet the other side of zero.

this “leave behind ppl who don’t mean shit in 2k15” talk is so much better than last year’s “drink water and talk to flowers in 2k14!”

I hate when people ask questions during movies like do you not understand that the movie purposly doesn’t tell you things in order to build suspense

"Tell me, how does this image make you feel?"

feels good man