1 day ago with 269,651 notes
She scares the hell out of me and calms my soul at the same time. Maybe that’s what love is—a total contradiction that somehow balances out.

— Tammara Webber, Where You Are (via makelvenotwar)

1 day ago with 133,663 notes
13 things my uncle told me before he died:
not everyone has the blessing to understand sadness
when waiting at the bus stop, it’s okay to smoke cigarettes
never touch anyone else’s clothes at the laundromat
it’s okay to miss the people who were bullets to you
when your grandmother asks you how you are, be honest
never be afraid to say “no” even after you’ve said “yes”
if someone tells you graffiti isn’t art, prove them wrong
remember people by their eye color not their clothes
you’re allowed to like dark chocolate with tangerines
don’t lie that you don’t have a lighter when you really do
turn your phone off every once in a while and find the moon
if you want a tattoo, don’t let anyone tell you not to get it
if you ever find yourself at the graveyard, read the names

— poems from my uncles grave (via irynka)

2 days ago with 230,168 notes
2 days ago with 75,660 notes

What if, in another universe, I deserve you?

Hear me out. There’s this philosopher from the 1890s named William James, and he coined this theory about “the multiverse” which suggests that a hypothetical set of multiple universes comprises everything that can possibly exist simultaneously.

Are you following? The entirety of space, time, matter and energy is all happening at once in different timelines: It’s the idea of parallel universes. Right? So okay, let’s presume the multiverse is real.

Well then, maybe somewhere in those infinite universes is one, or several, where I deserve you.

Maybe there’s a universe out there — happening now — where we end up together and when I close my eyes at night, I’m not dreaming the way a normal person would. Instead I’m seeing flashes of our lives in the multiverse. They’re not simple dreams because I miss you, right? They’re scientific, anachronistic visions.

For instance:

In this universe, I don’t want a family, but maybe in another, I’m more of the type to settle down. Maybe there’s a universe where you hold my hand while I give birth to our daughter in a white hospital room with pink flowers and fuzzy teddy bears on the window sill. Where we take family vacations and pose for dorky pictures in our neon bathing suits on the sands of a Florida beach. Where we curl up to watch a cheesy movie at the end of a long day in our big, green, suburban house once the kids have fallen asleep.

Maybe there’s a universe where we are middle-aged and taking our child to college and bickering over where to put her dresser or what posters she should hang up. Where you kiss her on the forehead ‘goodbye’ and we drive home in contented, proud silence, your fingers grazing my knuckles, our wedding rings glistening. Where we both have gray hair and we laugh and smile and hug and drink lemonade on the porch.

Maybe there’s a universe where that’s the life I want. Where I don’t second guess everything and I’m not afraid of commitment and of the future and of love. Maybe there’s a universe without all the noise in my head and the pride that makes me so fiercely independent and the coldness in my heart that I can turn on and off like a security fence.

Maybe there’s a universe where I’m the right person for you. Where I adore every nice thing you did for me without starting to resent you. A universe where you actually end up with someone who appreciates you. Where no one becomes a doormat. Where both of us can shed our baggage and curiosity and issues. A universe where we’re happy — without wondering if that happiness is some messed-up Jenga game ready to topple at the slightest quiver. A universe where we’re comfortable and sure, and we have cats.

Maybe there’s a universe where we fall asleep next to each other every night like spoons, like two innocent bunnies — my face buried in your neck, hugging your warmth — and we both don’t want anything or anybody else. Where we don’t want more, we just want each other.

Maybe there’s a universe where I don’t covet so much all the time and where I’m content and where I don’t wonder about picking up and moving to Japan without saying anything to anyone and where at this very juncture, I can just know I’ll always want to come home and cook dinner with you.

If you think of it all this way, then it’s like neither of us did anything wrong.

You just found me in the wrong universe. That’s all. This is, as they say, the darkest timeline. Everywhere else, nay, “everywhen” else — us in the Civil War, us in Ancient Egypt, us in the swinging ’60s — we are happy.

If this theory holds, well, by the law of averages, there had to be one universe — just this one — where we don’t end up together. Here and now just happens to be it. If you think of it this way, nothing is our fault.

So see, that explains everything. We’re not together anymore because of the multiverse.

Well, isn’t that comforting?

If you’re sad, do like I do and just think of the other ‘verses. The ones where I believe in love and where I don’t hate myself and where I never feel the need to kamikaze relationships. A universe where we can have nice things. It’s helpful, right?

Because you could have loved me forever. And maybe in another universe, I let you.

— Gaby Dunn   (via bdmar)

2 days ago with 16,225 notes
I want you. I want to throw you against a wall, wrap your legs around my waist and kiss you. Kiss you until we have to stop to catch our breaths. I want you and only you. I want to take you on road trips that lead us to pulling over on the side of the road because we can’t keep our hands off each other. I want you and your flaws. I want your messy makeup from teary eyes as I hold you and talk to you about life. I want the 3am phone calls because you can’t sleep at night. I want to be yours and only yours. I want to taste all your cooking, even if it’s not good, even if it’s experimenting I’d have you cook every meal for the rest of my life. I want you. I want my trembling hands to grab your waist and dance with you in the middle of an empty room. I want to struggle on days when I can’t see you. I want to fight about meaningless stuff that will lead to meaningful sex. I want you. I want your hand to rest on my forearm as we enter a party, so I can reassure you that you are safe with me. I want to sing to you in the shower and have you shut me up with kisses because we both know I’m no singer. I want the ups and downs, the winter and summer days. I want you and only you…

— what I’m too afraid to say (via bdmar)

2 days ago with 83,996 notes

pearswhy:

explaining anxiety is the fucking worst because you feel like an idiot for being bothered by the things that bother you but it’s such an intense fear right at your core so you have to go through all of these other levels of yourself to try and get someone else to understand it

2 days ago with 200,304 notes
2 days ago with 76,942 notes

yhippie:

flowury:

opalorgans:

iopenedpandorasbox:

sizvideos:

Bill Murray Crashes Bachelor Party, Gives Awesome Speech 

Amen

He comes to bars in my college town and gives life advice to college kids

HAHA bill Murray just wanders around crashing parties and weddings in his free time you know

I say this all the time and no one pays me any mind. I legitimately want to travel the world with someone and get married if it’s a success. 

2 days ago with 438,689 notes
I believe that true love and fate are intrinsically intertwined. Sometimes, the person that you are truly meant to fall in love with will come into your life in the strangest, most unexpected way. Your true love may shock you. You may find yourself discounting your feelings based solely on your inability to see how it could possibly work. “We are too different,” “The timing is all wrong,” “There is too much distance,” “I always thought that I would fall for somebody different,” “I’m still in love with so-and-so,” etc. My advice to you is to throw away your conventions and preconceived notions. People come into your life for a reason. If you feel that click with someone, it does not matter anymore where either of you came from, where you’ve been, or where you thought you were going. Grab onto that person and run with them wherever fate takes you. Let go of the idea of the person that you thought was perfect, or that your mother would like, and direct your eyes to the blinding light that is the person that loves your soul. Grab hold of that beautiful person that has heard your purest wishes and your darkest desires and everything in between and has embraced and celebrated it all. Never EVER let them go, no matter their baggage or past. Not for all the bright smiles and perfect curls and charming laughs of the person you thought might have been “perfect.” Look to the one who never stops worrying, never stops trying, never stops reaching out, no matter how hard you try to push them away, or how much you hurt them. Because that is the person that loves you. Look to the person that you don’t have to pretend for. Look to the person who accepts your tears and your anger and your apathy and your smiles and your wit and your dirty mind and loves it all. Look to the person that you can be totally open with because you know they would never judge you. Look to the person that was there for you in ways that you never thought anyone would be, even when it hurt them. Look to the person who wants to know about every stupid little part of your life. Look to the person who cares about your family and your friends and your pets though they never even met them. Look to the person who sends you messages just to check in, and wishes that you have a good day. Look to the person that tries to be what you need. Look to the person that encourages your dreams and applauds all of your triumphs— not matter how small. Look to that person, and know that it does not matter where they came from, who they were before, how different you are, how damaged they are, how strangely they came into your life, or how impossible the obstacles between you may seem. Because that is the person who will love you your whole life long. That is the person who will never let you down. That is the person who will treasure you with their dying breath. Fate has worked very hard to bring you two together. Don’t you dare let go.

Love just isn’t as mysterious as you think it is. All the signs are right in front of you, if you would just open your eyes.   (via bdmar)

2 days ago with 4,114 notes
actuates:

I really don’t like my handwriting but I’m sharing this with you anyways
2 days ago with 105,650 notes
I swear to every heaven ever imagined,
if I hear one more dead-eyed hipster
tell me that art is dead, I will personally summon Shakespeare
from the grave so he can tell them every reason
why he wishes he were born in a time where
he could have a damn Gmail account.
The day after I taught my mother
how to send pictures over Iphone she texted
me a blurry image of our cocker spaniel ten times in a row.
Don’t you dare try to tell me that that is not beautiful.
But whatever, go ahead and choose to stay in
your backwards-hoping-all-inclusive club
while the rest of us fall in love over Skype.
Send angry letters to state representatives,
as we record the years first sunrise so
we can remember what beginning feels like when
we are inches away from the trigger.
Lock yourself away in your Antoinette castle
while we eat cake and tweet to the whole universe that we did.
Hashtag you’re a pretentious ass hole.
Van Gogh would have taken 20 selfies a day.
Sylvia Plath would have texted her lovers
nothing but heart eyed emojis when she ran out of words.
Andy Warhol would have had the worlds weirdest Vine account,
and we all would have checked it every morning while we
Snap Chat our coffee orders to the people
we wish were pressed against our lips instead of lattes.
This life is spilling over with 85 year olds
rewatching JFK’s assassination and
7 year olds teaching themselves guitar over Youtube videos.
Never again do I have to be afraid of forgetting
what my fathers voice sounds like.
No longer must we sneak into our families phonebook
to look up an eating disorder hotline for our best friend.
No more must I wonder what people in Australia sound like
or how grasshoppers procreate.
I will gleefully continue to take pictures of tulips
in public parks on my cellphone
and you will continue to scoff and that is okay.
But I hope, I pray, that one day you will realize how blessed
you are to be alive in a moment where you can google search
how to say I love you in 164 different languages

— b.e. fitzgerald (via crackademia)

2 days ago with 12,618 notes
2 days ago with 20,817 notes
2 days ago with 2,029 notes
I think about you. But I don’t say it anymore.

— Marguerite Duras, from Hiroshima, Mon Amour  (via forgettvble)

2 days ago with 132,287 notes