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Date the girl whose hair is a mess and steals your t-shirts and kisses you in front of boys who look at her admiringly. Date the girl who wants to dance in the rain with you and make tea for you and make you laugh so hard you snort tea out your nose. Date the girl who cares so much that she can tell something is wrong just by looking at you. Date the girl who will wrap her arms around you for no reason and pay attention when you talk about the things you love, even if she doesn’t love them herself. Date the girl who looks like a lazy sunday afternoon instead of a saturday night. Yeah. Just date that girl.
Date that Girl | Nikita Gill (via untamedunwanted)
You think you’ve seen her naked because she took her clothes off? Tell me about her dreams. Tell me what breaks her heart. What is she passionate about, and what makes her cry? Tell me about her childhood. Better yet, tell me one story about her that you’re not in.
You’ve seen her skin, and you’ve touched her body. But you still know as much about her as a book you once found, but never got around to opening.
(via aureat)
As I laid on the grass, looking up the sky above me,
with my clothes reeked of spilled beer, and its taste still lingering in my throat,
I thought of a very cliché question –What does it feel like to fly?
What do birds feel as they take that leap of faith off a tree?Does it feel the same as the high I get from drinking?
First sip tastes awful, but there’s always an urge for a second one.
There’s something in the way it makes me feel,
The way it makes me start dancing when I hear a song without much thinking,
and seeing things that don’t exist at this part of the world like, the midnight sun.It makes me feel almost liberated,
I drink until my senses go numb, my words slurred, thoughts blurred,
It’s as if a weight is lifted off my chest and my demons are defeated,
As if I could fly, as if, I am a bird.I like the way it makes me feel,
It’s how I escape my thoughts that keep me up all night,
But there’s always a catch, or rather, a buzzkill,
–That feeling goes away as quickly as it takes to get myself drunk.
And once again, I’m left with a choice to make,
To drink a few more cans and miss the first light,
or to give up that harmful thrill.As I laid on the grass, looking up the sky above me,
still reeked of beer, I realised that the high I get from drinking is nothing like flying.
Birds are brave enough to take that leap everyday, leaving trees to fly across skies and the sea,
Yet, I am just here opening up another can of beer,
hoping that this fleeting high could help me stop thinking and fall asleep,So really, how can this be the same as flying?
Flying is a leap of faith,
and drinking is just my temporary escape from this crazy world
that never stops spinning.
vivian tyee, drunk thoughts. (via wnq-writers)
Beauty isn’t about your body size, your clothes or your make up. Beauty is about the way you talk, the way you move and the way you use to live life.
16/12/2015 (via moritzfer)
You think you’ve seen her naked because she took her clothes off? Tell me about her dreams. Tell me what breaks her heart. What is she passionate about, and what makes her cry? Tell me about her childhood. Better yet, tell me one story about her that you’re not in.
You’ve seen her skin, and you’ve touched her body. But you still know as much about her as a book you once found, but never got around to opening.
(via dominicmatthewjackson)
Age appears to be best in four things; old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read.
I am determined to live vividly, and love fiercely.
espereia (via wnq-writers)