worthwhile meandering.

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Lose Yourself (by Slater Combes (Dextrae))

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hitRECord

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@etsy.com

itsallthereisleft:

When you read my face,

Did it present mystery and secrets?

Or was I an open book

Sexually immoral

Until your gaze was over turned?

The sky was always bright

But storms destroy homes and seas

Bury bodies. As is the way faces

Overlook the most important details

And cling to cheap moments.

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Stars (via http://www.seblester.co.uk/)

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Tribute to Pulp Fiction.

Follow me at doodletome.tumblr.com!

Submitted by doodletome

For my man lol

I do not know whether writing about this will be helpful or harmful but here goes nothing. Well first, being scared that writing might hurt me seriously alarms me. My writing used to get all of my thoughts out of my head and onto paper where I could effectively compartmentalize and analyze them. Lately, writing just makes me think harder and often worry more. But that’s pretty irrelevant. In one week, I will move away from the home I’ve grown up in for fifteen years. This scares the hell out of me. At the risk of sounding pathetic, all I’ve done is cry lately. To definitely sound pathetic, I do not know how to function without my very best friend across the street and my boyfriend only a few miles away, always up for a sonic trip when things are bad.

Okay. I need to stop.

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Half Empty, Half Full designed by Hannah / @HannahAmaka

Submitted by foureighty

enthusista:

be my only love

kiss me in the clover
pull me into quiet hallways and
whisper words that are just for me.

you know where to find
the best in me, even 
on the darkest days.

you weather my storms
and soothe my spirit.

how did you
find me?
two hearts among millions;
my perfect match,

my only love.
 

by9:

eight by inajacobe on Flickr.