good grief this.
Life becomes so much fun when you don’t want anything from anyone. You just want to do your thing and see other people do their’s without getting in their way. I have never in nature seen a dog eat a dog. A dog will eat it’s own vomit before it turns to that. Compete with yourself and build others up, it’s like cocaine for your good vibes.
good grief this.
You are not an ugly person day to day. From day to day, you are a nice person. From day to day, all the people who are supposed to love you on the whole do. From day to day, as you walk down a busy street in the large and modern and prosperous city in which you work and lie, dismayed and puzzled at how alone you can feel in this crowd, how awful it is to go unnoticed, how awful it is to go unloved, even as you are surrounded by more people than you could possibly get to know in a lifetime that lasted for millennia and then out of the corner of your eye you see someone looking at you and absolute pleasure is written all over the person’s face, and then you realize that you are not as revolting a presence as you think you are. And so, ordinarily, you are a nice person, an attractive person, a person capable of drawing to yourself the affection of other people, a person at home in your own skin: a person at home in your own house, with its nice backyard, at home on your street, your church, in community activities, your job, at home with your family, your relatives, your friends - you are a whole person.
Jamaica Kincaid, A Small Place (via larmoyante)
And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.
Emotions are supposed to be raw, ugly, brutal…you don’t want someone to ‘sorta’ love you. You want that love to be a bursting flame, not a candle.
Came up in conversation. (via jayvsatlas)
Maybe home is nothing but two arms holding you tight when you’re at your worst.
Unknown (via quotethat)
I don’t give a shit about grand gestures or flowers at my door, I just want your teeth across my neck and my lips pressed to the small of your back, I want your stupid fucking sense of humour making me laugh at 4am when I have to be up at 6.
Unknown (via wormkink)