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Keep Calm and Write On

An actual blog of the feelings that I hide from my other blog.
Does this really mean that my childhood is over?

Does this really mean that my childhood is over?

indigoandmountains:

Iron & Wine - Trapeze Swinger

this has been my favorite song for about 8 years.

(via tblaberge)

Sand.

What do you do when you know that a friendship is over?

I mean it’s a long term, teenage bond that developed and strengthened during college, but faltered after.

What do you do?

Maybe your beliefs don’t line up, your careers are diverting or you don’t live in the same vicinity, but really? It’s that easy to let it all crumble?

It’s almost as if our friendship, dare I say, sisterhood, was built on sand.

Mime.

I am boxed within my thoughts.

But, it’s all in my head.

Replay.

You 

are my 

new

favorite song.

Weirdo.

Your beauty and strangeness

Encompass in a bottle

It’s as fragile as you are

Waiting for others to pop the bottle

C’mon let me show you my intricate work

I am a masterpiece, you say

But they don’t heard a word

You’re a weirdo. Freak. Loser. Alone.

'Cause nobody wants to map your intricate quirks

Your bottle tilts

It spills 

All your ills are out

Everyone see you naked and revealed

You’re spellbound. Space bound. Unbound.

You are free.

My God you are freed when your beauty is found out 

By strangers just like me.

Dolittle.

I dream too much and do too little. I don’t even hope enough, they call me “Jenny-Dolittle.” Never had many friends, gotta owe my personality that one. I’m a turtle struggling in her shell; can’t walk, can’t swim, can barely make it out now. It’s dark in here, waiting for someone to save me, so I escape my days watching movies on repeat. Escapism, they call it. A reality check? I don’t want it. I wanna be where the movies are at, where adventures are never-ending ‘cause my queue is packed.

I wanna be where the stories are at; if only, oh if only, I could get out of my bed.

You are made
out of comets
and stars.

Do not surround
yourself with those
that treat you like
dirt and dust.

Noor Shirazie (via aestheticintrovert)

(via yellowskiesandbluehearts)

Romance.

A sea of lust not love.

It is a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless Automat of characters.

Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn, p. 73 (via myprivatelibrary)