“On My Worst Day (I’m Still in Love With You)” - Erika Ingrid
This song feels like the drizzle of honey you add into your warm tea while it’s chilly outside. 🤍
Stranger Things
we're not kids anymore.
Jules of Nature
taylor price
trying on a metaphor
Cosmic Funnies
Cosimo Galluzzi
Monterey Bay Aquarium

tannertan36
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
cherry valley forever

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
wallacepolsom

roma★

Kiana Khansmith
Not today Justin
Sweet Seals For You, Always
🪼
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@smileitsfriday
“On My Worst Day (I’m Still in Love With You)” - Erika Ingrid
This song feels like the drizzle of honey you add into your warm tea while it’s chilly outside. 🤍

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i think one of my most treasured little everyday moments has got to be the end-of-the-day tidy after putting baby to bed. there is just something so sweet about getting down on the floor and collecting up all the blocks, putting the wooden animals back in their puzzle, tucking BaaBaa the sheep and BunBun the bunny into their baskets, and putting the tiny clothes from the floor in front of the tub into her little hamper. what a privilege it is to clean up all the evidence of a day of laughter and play and make a fresh slate for her to joyfully tornado through as soon as the sun comes up tomorrow.
this makes me feel so peaceful.
Have you ever met someone that just feels like a safe space? 💗

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It’s Called Maximalism, Babe
Why shouldn’t I stop and smell the espresso beans / Or say, in a voice a little too loud, This is the best margarita I’ve ever had!! / Or use the full curse word / Or have my dessert first / Why shouldn’t I give it my all / And do it for the story / And leap before looking / And let love consume me / Why shouldn’t I use my expensive face creams with abandon / Triple text my crush / Laugh at my own jokes / Cry at commercials / Sing at the top of my lungs while I vacuum / Buy the orange chair / Paint the town purple / And fly across the country just to pinch a cheek / Why shouldn’t I hold your face in both of my hands at 11:30AM on a Tuesday while you’re chopping a salad and remind you that you’re the center of my happiest days / Why shouldn’t I memorize how the sun comes in from the front window / Turn the music up / Give the dog a piece of cheese / Say what I mean / Let my hair down / Forgive fast / Believe that the best is yet to come / Tell me - no really - why shouldn’t I? Why shouldn’t we? Why shouldn’t you?
- Lyndsay Rush
(ig:maryoliversdrunkcousin)
I used to have this “special skill” of ghosting anyone who hurt me. I call it a “skill” because it didn’t matter how long I had loved them (3 years? 4?), I took pride in the fact that I could let them go cold-turkey overnight. “Surgical,” my friends would tell me, implying a clean and absolute break. I thought this made me a strong person.
It’s been years, but I’m embarrassed to say that I just now realized that I felt that way because of my mom. Growing up, she used to angrily tell my brother and I that she could send us away and forget she even had children when we would frustrate her. I remember fear permeating my being every time she’d wield that threat. Panic, even. I think she, too, thought being able to “surgically” break the bond she had with her children as something that proved her resiliency.
But I wanted to write about this because I was wrong. We both were. Surgically removing someone from my life doesn’t make me strong; it’s a reaction to being hurt. It’s trying to self-preserve in the most extreme way. It’s the truest declaration of “I’m only thinking about myself right now.” When my mom would tell me that she could forget me, she wasn’t thinking about how heavily it weighed on my heart or how small it made me feel. She wasn’t trying to hurt me at all; she was just trying to make herself hurt less in the only way she knew how and for that, I forgive her.
I often think of all the people I’ve loved that I’ve ghosted. I try not to live with regrets, but I do wish I knew then what I know now. I wish I fought harder for the people I’ve loved to remain in my life because honest to god, I miss them. Not in that I want to be with them, but I so miss our conversations and think about them all the time.
You know what takes strength? Communication. Empathy. Compromise. Choosing to stay despite being so frustrated you want to scream into a pillow. Having the emotional intelligence and capacity to tell your ego to gtfo so that you can connect with someone you love during the hardest moments is the most challenging thing. To not base your actions on insecurity. Being self-aware enough to even observe your own insecurities.
I’d love to be able to listen to jazz and not be flooded with the memz.

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A How-To
If I wrote a manual on how to love me, I think I’d start out with the order of my love language preferences: acts of service, physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time, then gift giving. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the occasional bouquet, but if I woke up one day and you told me you washed my car, I think I’d actually shed a tear or two.
Maybe chapter two would be about our conversations. Tell me about the details when I ask about your day; I’m invested and want to hear them. The dreams you had last night, the brunch you had 7 months ago that you’re craving for today’s break-y, why you think the Starbucks drip is the absolute worst, and the logistics of the project you’re working on. I can’t promise that I’ll always understand the project logistics, but I can promise to always support and encourage you. If you wish for me to change something, be honest with me but use gentle language and I can pretty much guarantee you’ll have your way. And please, please, please, if you tell me you’ll do something, big or small, be true to your words; mean what you say.
Be patient with my anxiety. I’ve put in so much time and effort in the past few years to get better at managing it, you may even forget it’s something I struggle with. But when I don’t offer to drive to that new restaurant we’ve been dying to try, it’s because thinking about where to park in an unfamiliar place kind of makes my palms sweaty, not because I’m lazy.
Music is everything to me, so when I share a song with you, listen to it. Not just have it playing in the background while you drive, but like actually set time aside to notice the instruments, the lyrics, and how it all melts together; preferably with a warm beverage. Maybe we could even experience it together.
If a manual on how to love me existed, I may not even need to have written it. Under “Author” would be the names of every person I’ve ever loved whose relationships with me have never been perfect, but have all had these little moments of blissful, unadulterated love. Some may have had more pages than others, but all have held invaluable lessons about who I am, how I love, and the love I deserve. And for that, I am grateful for them all.
How cute is my little fox kitty? 💕☁️
Yeah, maybe I burnt the toast a little bit, but will I ever tire of this weekend breakfast? 🥰🥑
The little things add up.
What does self-care look like in this season of your life at the moment? 💓
blooming leaves

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Appenzell, Steinegg, Switzerland | doeeme
“Berrylands Rd.” - Yiruma
Ya’ll need to brew a cup of tea, light a candle, & then listen to this piece while taking sips and not doing anything else. 💓