credit


Read More





# hi

hi







Let’s go to McD
(5:27pm)

Is it too early to go to McD?
(7:09am)

Are you awake? Let’s stop by McD
(1:38am)

I love you but I love McD more
(4:01pm)

Chicken nuggets >
(03:08am)

—— Texts I should have sent </3


The colour of forgiveness is a pale blue that slows down your heart rate before drifting off to sleep,

the same pale blue as the colour of the bedroom walls that surrounded you when you were four and sitting on your parents’ bed, listening to your mother casually teaching you life lessons while slipping into her pyjamas and letting her hair down. Lessons like “there’s a difference between regular lies and white lies”. Lessons that stuck around in the back of your mind and sank deeper into your bones as you got older, still unable to separate the specific words from the sound of her voice.

The colour of forgiveness is purple like a heart shaped lake that won’t stop reflecting the sunset even if you throw yourself into it without knowing how to swim. Some surfaces are as harmonious as their insides are destructive.

The colour of forgiveness is white like the lies your mother warned you about, except this time you’re the one figuring them out and not making them up. It’s white like police cars and hospital bed sheets and the powder you discreetly wipe off his upper lip before anyone else sees it because you love him that much, but not enough to enforce any consequences.

The colour of forgiveness is red like lips swollen from kissing because they don’t know how else to say “don’t worry about it, I’m used to it”.

The colour of forgiveness is black like blinkers, like hands covering your eyes like “maybe, if I pretend like there’s nothing better for me out there, I can keep on pretending like this is acceptable”.

Ultimately, my favourite colour of forgiveness is transparent. This kind of forgiveness is not about looking the other way or apologising for having feelings or for wanting more for yourself than you did yesterday. This kind is about unclenching fists and breathing out. This kind is transparent like a window through which you watch and understand how the world works, bit by bit, and let it be.

—— The colour of forgiveness


❝ After the earth dies, some 5 billion years from now, after it’s burned to a crisp, or even swallowed by the Sun, there will be other worlds and stars and galaxies coming into being - and they will know nothing of a place once called Earth. ❞
—— Carl Sagan (via raikaxy)




j-boychuk:

i miss nonamesareleft

this warms my little heart <3 i love j-boychuk and i’m going to blog more from now on, i promise!!! 





i feel like talking about vacations

the other day i realised that some of the cities i have visited multiple times are cities i’ve only visited at certain times of the year. like paris, for example. i’ve only ever been there in the summer and one time in spring. london i’ve never experienced in summer or spring, only late fall or winter. i think the weather impacts the way you feel overall when you’re somewhere and also the feeling you get when you think back on what being there was like. i can’t think of paris without remembering what it’s like to constantly be all sweaty and blinded by the sun or the smell of hot asphalt in a city filled with cars or the hot summer nights where you can walk around outside without wearing any extra clothes. and i can’t think of london without remembering the smell of cold air and hiding my cold fingers in my pockets because i’m an impractical weirdo who hates wearing mittens. speaking of vacations and reminders, i have this mango lip balm that i used when i was in rome, i was only there for around a week and i’ve only been there that one time and i don’t think i ever used the lip balm after i got back home, so whenever i find it in my closet and try it on i feel like i’m back there and like it’s cold and rainy and i’m feeling lost because i don’t understand a freaking word anyone is saying or the culture for that matter. i don’t know why but i felt like rome was hard for me to fit into the same way i feel like a part of where i am when i’m somewhere else where i understand the language they speak. when you don’t understand what people are saying and how they express themselves you just can’t be a part of their world and i think that’s a fact. that’s also why i don’t get how some people can move to a different country and live there for years without socialising with locals and/or learning how to speak the language. i would feel like i was knocking on a door and never really being let in



# music


Give Your Heart a Break - Demi Lovato
395 plays





Anonymous asked:
Man I read all of your text posts, seriously. No need to delete them c:

Ey! Aw thank you!!! I’m glad you’re interested in me :D You’re lovely. <3



i’m getting real tired of all these rejections