I’m sitting here thinking of all the things I wanted to apologize to you for. All the pain we caused each other. Everything I put on you. Everything I needed you to be or needed you to say. I’m sorry for that. I’ll always love you because we grew up together. You helped make me who I am. I just wanted you to know, there will be a piece of you in me always. And I’m grateful for that. Whatever someone you become and wherever you are in the world, I’m sending you love. You’re my friend to the end.

Her (2013)
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the sun is perfect and you woke this morning. you have enough language in your mouth to be understood. you have a name, and someone wants to call it. five fingers on your hand and someone wants to hold it. if we just start there, every beautiful thing that has and will ever exist is possible. if we start there, everything, for a moment, is right in the world.

warsan shire (via perfect)
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And kid, you’ve got to love yourself. You’ve got wake up at four in the morning, brew black coffee, and stare at the birds drowning in the darkness of the dawn. You’ve got to sit next to the man at the train station who’s reading your favorite book and start a conversation. You’ve got to come home after a bad day and burn your skin from a shower. Then you’ve got to wash all your sheets until they smell of lemon detergent you bought for four dollars at the local grocery store. You’ve got to stop taking everything so goddam personally. You are not the moon kissing the black sky. You’ve got to compliment someones crooked brows at an art fair and tell them that their eyes remind you of green swimming pools in mid July. You’ve got to stop letting yourself get upset about things that won’t matter in two years. Sleep in on Saturday mornings and wake yourself up early on Sunday. You’ve got to stop worrying about what you’re going to tell her when she finds out. You’ve got to stop over thinking why he stopped caring about you over six months ago. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. Fuck it. Love yourself, kiddo. You’ve got to love yourself.

Unknown (via impetrate)
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I want to tell you I miss
you with no subtext. No guilt,
no anger, no expectation
that you’ll fix it. I don’t want
you to feel bad or to tell
me it will get better. This
is where we are meant to be
right now – me apart from you,
my hands a little empty and
my heart a little sad.
I just miss you.
I wanted you to know.

anne, fyi (via avvfvl)
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  • 2 days ago
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Perhaps the fact
that I chased a boy
who ripped me to shreds
says a lot more
about me
than it did about him.

Michelle K., Lessons Learned (via gothics)
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Nostalgia is a
dirty liar
that insists things
were better
than they seemed.

Michelle K., I Can’t Stop Questioning It.    (via hefuckin)
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poopflow:

james franco look like one of those sweaty stoners that shows up to class late every day and is like “you got another pencil i can use bruh” and he never gives them back what does he do with all those pencils

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