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Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
womenreading
fugitiveprimitive: “ Nadya in the library. UCF, FL | 2014 ” when I do this in library people don’t take photos of me and romantise me as an unconventually beautiful genius who wears large sweaters and drinks too much coffee… they just look at me as...
fugitiveprimitive

Nadya in the library. 

UCF, FL | 2014

yoursgeographically

when I do this in library people don’t take photos of me and romantise me as an unconventually beautiful genius who wears large sweaters and drinks too much coffee… they just look at me as if I’m crazy.

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trainsandtrainstations
Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes.
The Winter of the Air   (via trainsandtrainstations)
Source: kalynroseanne
befitzgeraldwriting
When I was sixteen, the most self destructive things
I ever did were lose
library books intentionally
and turn the shower dial to scorch,
pretending I was a phoenix.
Now I’m twenty one, cutting myself shaving three times in one week and I’m not sure if any
of them can be called accidents.
All memories of you fit perfectly into the shoebox in the back of my closet but my ribs still swell when I think of your last name attached to my first.
I whispered that I was sorry
to Orion’s Belt last night hoping
the galaxy would pass on the message.
Point blank,
I’m not sure if I ever loved you.
I’m note sure if I have ever
fallen in love with anyone really,
and that scares me.
I’m not sure where
I’m going to end up anymore
and that pins me to my bed
like a lover playing rough.
All I know is every time
I drive under that bridge now
I wonder if the girl who jumped still haunts it and how many more Christmases it will be until her family stops pinning up her stocking.
I wish you weren’t meant to love me
when I was this incurably sad.
b.e.fitzgerald (i put away all the Polaroids of you)
quoted-books
Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn’t stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those.
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath  (via quoted-books)
hermionejg
They have The Fault In Our Stars shirts that say “Okay” and “Okay” in word balloons, they are very glad Harry and Hermione never got together because that would have been terribly reductive, and they consider power and individuality to be topics for books that are at least as important as kissing.
The Muscle-Flexing, Mind-Blowing Book Girls Will Inherit The Earth : Monkey See : NPR (via rachelfershleiser)
Source: NPR

friend: do you ever think about what your future husband is doing?

me: yes, all the time

friend: oh, thank goodness, I thought it was only me. I think about if I get a song stuck in my head if they do too, or if we’re reading the same book…

me: oh, I mainly think about if they’re having sex with anyone.

study abroad diaries
joneshowell

INSTEAD OF WRITING OUR BREAKUP POEM,

I book tickets to every place in the world
that I have a friend because I need somebody
to lean on; and so I sleep on a couch in London
a couch in Glasgow, a futon in Minneapolis,
a hotel bed in Edinburgh, a double bed in Atlanta
where I have two big windows that face the woods
and make me want to write the poem I’m trying
not to write.

I live out of a suitcase for a month and a half.
I only cry on a train once, but I cry in an Uber twice.
I tell my mother everything is fine because
everything is mostly fine.

I keep waiting for you to call me.

“Instead Of Writing Our Breakup Poem (pt. 2)” Trista Mateer
(via tristamateer)
Source: tristamateer
shitjafarsays
  • book one: professor mcgonagall and the you put a WHAT in our WHERE albus
  • book two: professor mcgonagall and the we have a WHAT IN OUR WHERE ALBUS
  • book three: professor mcgonagall and the ministry is sending us WHAT because of WHO
  • book four: professor mcgonagall and the ARE YOU SHITTING ME ALBUS
  • book five: professor mcgonagall and the we have WHO telling us to do WHAT
  • book six: professor mcgonagall and the albus do something NO NOT THAT
  • book seven: professor mcgonagall and the I FINALLY GET TO BLOW SHIT UP THANK YOU WIZARD GOD
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