Is it just me or does having a positive interaction with a stranger scratch a very particular itch? I think it's the reassurance that the world is not split solely into people who already love you and people who never will.
Take care of this version of you.
“Stop trying to change someone who doesn’t want to change. Stop giving chances to someone who abuses your forgiveness. Stop running back to the place where your heart ran from. Stop trusting their words and ignoring their actions. Stop breaking your own heart.”
— Unknown
The legacies people leave behind in you.
My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.
I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.
I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.
I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.
I learned to love books because my father loved them first.
How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.
absolutely obsessed with these tags
i can’t believe we’re all young professionals and academics and we’re still logging on to tumblr.com every single day to clown on ourselves. who let this happen
so please don’t
Wow so this place is still thriving?? I’m back🥰
“We are taught to believe that love is sufficient, only to leave an odd bunch of us dependent, and damned.”
telsitch said: raccoons with food!!!!
this post came into my house, took me by the ankles and swung me into every available surface
she’s decadent
“There are moments that cry out to be fulfilled. Like, telling someone you love them. Or giving your money away, all of it. Your heart is beating, isn’t it? You’re not in chains, are you? There is nothing more pathetic than caution when headlong might save a life, even, possibly, your own.”
— Mary Oliver, Felicity: Poems
“It does not matter if you are a rose or a lotus or a marigold. What matters is that you are flowering.”
—
Osho
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