humans are so cute, when we say goodbye we put our arms around each other and to show we love someone we bring them flowers. we say hello by holding each other’s hand, and sometimes tiny little dewdrops form in our eyes. for pleasure we listen to arrangements of sounds, press our lips together, smoke dried leaves, get drunk off of old fruit. we’re all just little animals, falling in love and having breakfast beneath billions of stars
BEST FRIENDS YOU DON’T GET TO TALK TO VERY OFTEN BC YOU’RE BOTH JUST REALLY BUSY WITH SCHOOL OR WHATEVER BUT ITS NOT A BIG DEAL BC YOURE STILL THE BEST OF FRIENDS NO MATTER WHAT, ARE THE BEST KINDS OF FRIENDS IN THE WHOLE WORLD
im truly fascinated by other people. their stories, their struggles, their experiences. its just amazing how much there is to another person that is often not seen. how many different stories we all have to tell, yet we all share so much in common.
“It is terrifying to think that one day you will trust somebody enough to let them see you naked. You will undress and remind them that you’ve stretch marks and birth marks and scars from having chicken pox when you were little and scars from all of the other things now. You will blush thousands of shades of red, painting yourself as a rose losing its petals. And that person - that person will take it all in. And I wonder if they will reassure you. But mostly, I wonder if they will even see anything worth reassuring you about. I hope they see each freckle on your back as if it’s a star and you are the whole universe to them.”—(K.P.K)
“I have noticed that when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing – their outer lives. Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling – their inner lives. They speak subjectively, they argue less, there are longer pauses. To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights – then I start thinking about projects, deadlines, demands, and the shadows and shapes of the house become objects, not suggestions, things that need to done, not a background to thought.”—
Jeanette Winterson, Why I adore the night (via stability)
“Some do drugs, others go out for a run, but at the end we’re all just searching for that tiny space, perhaps a hole, that gives us shelter from the terrible reality of the world.”—Unknown (via mofobian)