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jack

@taisdesu

«a poet is a blind optimist»
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emkgay

“I hate you”

“Nine percent of the time you don’t”

“Nine percent of the time I don’t want do kill you. I always hate you”

“No one asked you” With that, Andrew caught Neil’s face in his hands and learned in.

Andrew kissed him like this was a fight with their lives on the line, like his world stopped and started with Neil’s mouth.

This person drew this work on Instagram: @yen_mayer

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i'm sad bc i love people who are far away from me... i'm delighted by the fact that i live in a world where i can love people who are far away from me... the conundrum of the day

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All my grief says the same thing— this isn't how it's supposed to be. And the world laughs, holds my hope by my throat, says: but this is how it is.

Fortesa Latifi, The Truth About Grief

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wvterways

“i used to live there” is such a sad phrase. seeing places u used to live in is an odd thing. It’s like ‘i know where the best hiding place is in there. my bedroom was the one directly to the left as you walk in. i took my first steps on that flooring. i used to play in that yard with my grandma. she died two years ago. that was the only place i ever knew. those walls contain all of my childhood memories. i can no longer go there, but i know every corner like the back of my hand.’

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“What a ridiculous creature. Happy that I put butter on his sandwich. As if I wouldn’t make the world spin backwards if I thought he’d like it better that way.” – Baz, Any Way the Wind Blows

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I’d wake up every morning and tell myself …

I’d tell myself …

This will end in flames.

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