“Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.”—E.E. Cummings (via skeletales)
I honestly don’t know why I visit my parents. They talk shit about everyone 100% of the time. They don’t respect anyone or anything and I try so hard to just keep it light and funny and they disregard everyone constantly. It sucks the life out of me. I came here with such good intentions and now my sisters mad at me for being here and I’m mad at me for being here and my moms mad at me for leaving. I just wish it was different but I’ve always wished that and nothing ever changes so I should just move on.
And tonight my boyfriend is going to this party without me and because of things that happened years ago I am just really uncomfortable about the whole thing but I can’t really communicate that without sounding crazy. And of course I go onto this stupid fucking website to get my mind off of everything and the first thing I see is a picture someone reblogged with text “I’m going to do bad things to your boyfriend.” Thank you, universe for shitting in my face some more. I really enjoy it.
I’m tired and I need a hug and to cry a lot and someone to just actually talk to.
n. the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it—whether through envy or pity or simple foreignness—which allows it to drift away from the rest of your life story, until the memory itself feels out of place, almost mythical, wandering restlessly in the fog, no longer even looking for a place to land.
[in-ef-uh-buhl]”—(adjective) In the list of one of the most 100 beautiful words in the English language, ineffable’s beauty lies in its flowing sound and meaning. Ineffable describes the sentiment of being unable to express something in words because it is too extreme to communicate; words cannot possibly do justice at this particular moment. (via goodniteowl)
“I’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. I’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. I’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I’m not afraid of your dark.”—Andrea Gibson, Slip Your Mind (via larmoyante)