The world spins madly on

Few are those who see with their own eyes and feel with their own heart

I wish you fucking missed me.

yoursixwordstory (via perfect)

(via beautifuldaisyhuman)

Posted 2 hours ago with 95,466 notes

“A Life to be Living"
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The summer season is coming to an end and in about an hour so will my beach job

But September is filled with so many promises

I’m heading to the seaside for the weekend to enjoy the sun and sand and college friends

I’m going to see Grouplove and Portugal the Man in Central Park and the following week I’m going to see The Black Keys in Brooklyn

Heading to Boardy Barn for one last weekend

And ending the month with a getaway to the mountains to hike and swim in the lake

In the midst of all this I will be starting a new workout routines, saving up for a new car to replace my poor jeep, and applying for jobs

At the very least September promises
to be a whirlwind

Posted 22 hours ago with 1 note

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Do they sense it, these dead writers, when their books are read? Does a pinprick of light appear in their darkness? Is their soul stirred by the feather touch of another mind reading theirs? I do hope so.

Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale (via bibliophilebunny)

(via englishproblems)

Posted 1 day ago with 6,390 notes
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Poems are never just poems. They’re compensating for something. Here are the words I wish I had written in crescent-moon bite marks down your neck. Here are a hundred words for “stay,” and a hundred more for “please.” Here is how I hold a pen. Here is how the pen holds me. Here are my thoughts, over-steeped in empty fervor. Here is nothing and everything all at the same time.

Fragment 5, Kristina Kutateladze (via neongospel)

(via dryyoureyes)

Posted 2 days ago with 5,031 notes
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