“You are not accidental. The world needs you. Without you, something will be missing in existence and nobody can replace it.”
— (via minuty)
Acquired Stardust

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One Nice Bug Per Day
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i don't do bad sauce passes
Today's Document
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YOU ARE THE REASON
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@i-have-thoughts
“You are not accidental. The world needs you. Without you, something will be missing in existence and nobody can replace it.”
— (via minuty)

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ur not evil babe ur experiencing a human emotion
you're worthy of the love you crave

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Margarita Karapanou, tr. by Karen Emmerich, Rien ne va plus
“What you can always count on is awkwardness. It’s all about the subtle looks and small smiles. It’s both of your hearts racing because of accidental knee brushes and shaky breaths after staring at each other for a little to long. It’s the timid hello’s and reddening cheeks; love is raw in its most honest form, darling, and that should never change.”
I would not wish any companion in the world but you. — William Shakespeare
Sue Zhao // Dialogues on Love #4 // “Maybe I already do”

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All women are forced to live under an arbitrary and unfair system which sorts us into the categories of “Fuckable” and “Worthless.” The solution to this is NOT to expand the definition of “Fuckable.”
“All women are beautiful” is a cute sentiment and all but it’s ultimately the wrong one. All women are valuable, all women are people, whether you can be generous enough to find unconventional beauty in their appearance or not.
“I think very early in their marriage she had a flirtation with one of her coworkers. My father was livid. But instead of leaving her, he decided that he’d make her miserable. He moved our family back to his hometown, far away from everything she’d ever known. And every year the treatment got worse. He felt threatened by her. It wasn’t just that she looks like a movie star. That’s part of her appeal, but it’s so much more. She has this love of people that you can feel. And it draws people to her. Dad could never compete, so he diminished her whenever he could. My mother wanted to be an actress when she was younger. And Dad loved to tell the story of the first time he saw her perform. He called it ‘the most ridiculous thing he ever saw.’ It was clear that Mom missed her old life. Her nostalgia was a constant presence in our house. So many times I’d find her singing an old song, with tears in her eyes. As if she was mourning something she’d lost. Finally at the age of 58 she found the strength to get a divorce. She moved back to Sao Paulo. And slowly her joy began to return. She began to visit with old friends. She joined a chorus. She enrolled in university, and during the first week was elected leader of her class. During this time we became very close. I was so inspired by her transformation that I wrote a play about a woman who had reclaimed her spirit. We raised funds for the production. And I asked my mother to be the narrator. Not only did she accept, but she threw herself into the role. She insisted on memorizing her lines, even though they were meant to be read. But during every rehearsal she forgot her lines. Not once did she get it right. We begged her to read them, but she always refused. ‘I’m not a narrator,’ she’d say. ‘I’m a narr-actress.’ On the night of the performance the entire theater was filled. My mother had even forgotten her lines during the sound check, so I was shaking with nerves. But my fear melted away as soon as the curtain came up. The room grew very still. My mother looked the audience in the eyes, and delivered her lines perfectly. She was so calm. And confident. Like she’d finally arrived in the place she was always meant to be.”
i don’t think people should have to work in their 20s i think they should just be government designated Adventure Years where you’re paid to wander the country and go on journeys of self discovery and have gay sex and try different foods and sing badly in cars and create enemies and find fleeting father figures and sometimes commit crimes
op just reinvented the 17th century tradition of the grand tour like that
i want a best friend in a lover. no greater love story than that.

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it won’t be like what you imagined. maybe you get the road trip to the beach with coffee in your hand and the radio playing, maybe you don’t. but happy shows up. it’s in a 2 AM game of jenga with your new college friends. it’s curling up for another marathon of netflix. it’s meeting the person who will be your best man at the wedding. it’s 4:45pm in the library when the girl in the study coral across from you quietly whispers “i’m going to set everything on fire” and then turns to you and asks if you wanna take a break for dinner (say yes, she’s very nice and you both need a moment away from the stress). it’s the mornings they have omelettes and in good books and in a puddle that looks cool. it’s sometimes picturesque, but more often it’s full-belly laughter at stupid things on the floor of your friend’s house while in the background someone is debating the best way to win settlers of catan.
i know it gets dark early now and the tired is setting in and everything sort of feels blank and hazy and you want to spend ages staring at walls thinking of nothing
but happiness will find a way in. it will be small moments. look for them.