Hit Counter


Let’s play a fun game called “we’re just friends but I’d fuck you if you asked”

(via vileallure)

I think it would be so easy to write about your hair and your smile and your eyes and your lips. I think it would be so easy to love your sense of humor and your favorite desserts and your favorite television shows and your all time favorite movies. I think it would be simple to hold your hands and stare into your eyes and lay on the grass and watch all that passes above with you. I think it will feel right holding conversations all day and watching your sweet disposition as you fall asleep in my arms and just lay there with the sound of traffic in the streets.

I think it’s going to be quite beautiful, falling in love with a person like you. And I can see it. I can see it all. And I’m not sure if you’re supposed to be the one or will be the one at the finish line but it feels right being with you. I don’t know where this may or may not go but it feels good, it feels worth it, and it feels like butterflies being released into the world. And I am happy.

Ming D. LiuA Story A Day #110 (This is supposed to be yesterday’s that I didn’t get a chance to post.)

(via mingdliu)

Most of our childhood is stored not in photos, but in certain biscuits, lights of day, smells, textures of carpet.

—Alain de Botton (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: seabois, via sotypicalme)