
T: I'll be awesome because I'll be doing stuff with stuff
seemsabitparanoid:unadivinatragedia:
Brazilian Portuguese – “The act of tenderly running one’s fingers through someone’s hair.”
My mouth is filled with the taste of melancholy. I want to paint my eyes dark and go out and be monstrous.
Except that I don’t. At all.
“Come and take me home”
N: I'm hot one minute, cold the next. Cold without my cardi, too hot with it
B: um.. put something thinner than a cardigan on
N: I haven't got anything, lol
B: you telling me you have NO clothes whatsoever..
N: Not thinner than this cardi, lol.
B: ABIGAIL. WHY HAVEN'T YOU TOLD ME YOU BECAME A NUDIST
N: Because I didn't want to put you off your studies with thoughts of my pale nakedness
B: it's a good thing my term has finished
N: I knew you'd be driven to distraction

(Source: imkillingforfun)

xintegrated:The best tea in the winter evenings in bed listening to amazing music, love ♥.

I was
trembling
for her
arms.
My heart
pounding,
“I would
give anything
to keep
you
here.”
-Tyler Knott Gregson-

(via seemsabitparanoid)
audiomonkey asked: Hey, thanks for the kudos. It's still a work in progress. And I have no problem with the reblog, although Dog knows why. I'm hoping to perform that one in a month or two at a slam, with gestures, so I'll try to get a video recording, as slam is WAY better with gestures.
Ha ha! I just really like it :)
audiomonkey:First recorded poem. Need to do this more so I don’t suck as much.
I love both your writing, and the way you read it. I hope you don’t mind me reblogging it? I want to be able to find it again later :D
White Rabbits!
I have not yet spoken aloud today. Perhaps my first words, when Justin wakes up momentarily and puts his head around my door to say good morning, shall be “White rabbits!”. I normally forget to say it, and I don’t know whether this is a custom that Justin, not being from England, is aware of. I don’t know how widespread such is. Did White Rabbits make it over the Iron Curtain?
The idea, I think, is one of those bound up with memories of my early childhood, and as such it fills me with a sense of magic and mischief that perhaps seems misplaced. But I don’t care. I’m twenty-one years old, I still believe in magic, and I am going to try my damnedest to remember to say it!
Don’t give me any rubbish about that “ahh, you only say it when the ‘r’ in the spelling is doing something or other” rubbish. That’s for pansies. I am not a pansy. I’m a radiant lawn fiend.
T.S. Eliot
(via zinaprince)