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“She wouldn’t say what we both knew. “The reason you will not say it is, when you say it, even to yourself, you will know it is true: is that it? But you know it is true now. I can almost tell you the day when you knew it is true. Why won’t you say it, even to yourself?”

William Faulkner, from As I Lay Dying  (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via violentwavesofemotion)



liketheesun:

thetallblacknerd:

tarynel:

thetallblacknerd:

I find it comical when women think I care about

Stretchmarks
If one titty is slightly bigger than the other
Birthmarks
Fat areas
Bumps or discoloration
Cellulite
Sweat
Morning breath
Human flaws

If I have you naked in front of me and I am naked too, the only thing on my mind is where am I putting my mouth first

This turned me on

I need to like add this permanently to my blog, shit is too relevant

i love this

(via makeme--skin--and--bones)



(via makeme--skin--and--bones)


andtheysaidspeakmeow:

But like why do you hate Taylor Swift? Among artists who sing about date rape and beating gay people and objectifying women, what is it about her that made you decide that she is the scum of the earth? Do you have a problem with jam? Are you offended by her high waisted shorts?

(via makeme--skin--and--bones)


“The painting of flowers
next to the painting of flames,
and I remember that time, years ago,
when the psychiatrist said, “You feel too much,
you are too sensitive, take these,”

giving me a bottle of pills. I took them
to the beach, watched light become flame
on the water, and along the ragged cliffs,
small flowers like blue stars,
the world a painting
I couldn’t live in.
I opened the bottle, then put it down,
pills spilling on the sand.
Waves carried the flames
and didn’t mind the burning,
the arising from and disappearing
into the vastness. I swam,
let the waves take me,
then treaded water, looking at the sky,
a silver tray full
of the most beautiful nothing.
I swam back, the water was black,
I could sink beyond caring,
but I wanted to live,
to be there
with the beauty and the burning
and let it be too much.”

Susan Browne, from In The Art Gallery  (via violentwavesofemotion)



The poets stand in the rain.
They wear no raincoats.
They have no umbrellas.
They are discussing the shadow of a shadow of a shadow.

But their poetry is already soaking wet—
They have not developed their reality muscles
So they walk with a limp while admiring the color of a vein in a leaf.


Mahvash Mossaed from My Painted Dreams: The Poets (via violentwavesofemotion)




I am literally both of them at the same time

(via hellluvalife)



disneyfansonly:

Love Disney? This blog is full of Disney!!


“Reading a good one makes me love the one who wrote it,
as well as the animal or element or planet or person
the poet wrote the poem for. I end up like I always do,
flat on my back like a drunk in the grass, loving the world.
Like right now, I’m reading a poem called "Summer"
by John Ashbery whose poems I never much cared for,
and suddenly, in the dead of winter, "There is that sound
like the wind/Forgetting in the branches that means
something/Nobody can translate…”
I fall in love
with that line, can actually hear it (not the line
but the wind) and it’s summer again and I forget
I don’t like John Ashbery poems. So I light a cigarette
and read another by Zbigniew Herbert, a poet
I’ve always admired but haven’t read enough of, called
"To Marcus Aurelius" that begins "Good night Marcus
put out the light/and shut the book For overhead/is raised
a gold alarm of stars…”
First of all I suddenly love
anyone with the name Zbigniew. Second of all I love
anyone who speaks in all sincerity to the dead
and by doing so brings that personage back to life,
plunging a hand through the past to flip off the light.
The astral physics of it just floors me. Third of all
is that "gold alarm of stars…" By now I’m a goner,
and even though I have to get up tomorrow at 6 am
I forge ahead and read "God’s Justice" by Anne Carson,
another whose poems I’m not overly fond of
but don’t actively disdain. I keep reading one line
over and over, hovering above it like a bird on a wire
spying on the dragonfly with "turquoise dots all down its back
like Lauren Bacall”
. Like Lauren Bacall!! Well hell,
I could do this all night. I could be in love like this
for the rest of my life, with everything in the expanding
universe and whatever else might be beyond it
that we can’t grind a lens big enough to see. I light up
another smoke, maybe the one that will kill me,
and go outside to listen to the moon scalding the iced trees.
What, I ask you, will become of me?”

Dorianne Laux, from Mugged By Poetry (via violentwavesofemotion)




silohouettes:

My friend just made this status





Hey, My name is Claudia. from Jersey. Young but not young-minded. My interests include: Harry Potter. soccer. reading. The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Vampire Diaries. fun. taking pictures. puppies. food. watermelon sourpatchkids. roller-coasters. disney. super hero movies. beach. boardwalk. Imagine Dragons. glee. music. taylor swift. best friends. curled hair. forever 21. pacsun. jewelry. laughing. smiling. hopeless romantic. love. and so much more<3<br />
ask me something:D

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