But still, I find the need to remind myself of the temporariness of a day, to reassure myself that I got through yesterday, I’ll get through today.

Gayle Forman, Where She Went  (via anditslove)

(Source: quotes-shape-us, via cutsandcurves)

tylerknott:

"Inside It All Feels The Same"by Explosions In The Sky

Music has a way of reading what’s inside you, and then splashing it out in front of you on the canvas of your day.  These are my guts this day.

(Source: maggiemayes)

2 days ago - 606 -

effyeahnerdfighters:

apenguinenthusiast:

It’s just weird listening to it… go ahead, do it.

Old school, yo.

one of my favorites. 

2 days ago - 2988 -

If you’ve been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you - you will know that there comes in the end a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing was ever going to happen again.

C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (via akachristiannaa)

(Source: larmoyante, via wakeupmaggie13)

tylerknott:


Typewriter Series #755 by Tyler Knott Gregson

Text for Tired Eyes:

I want this. I want that. I want photos of us. I want to be proud of us out loud. I want to kiss you. I want to smile and laugh. I want to make you giggle and I want to make you sigh and I want to take your breath away and I want to dance with you at people’s weddings and I want to pick you up and carry you when your feet are tired and I want to wait until you are Almost asleep and then kiss your nose and make you laugh so hard with some secret joke that your belly hurts and you smack me for waking you all the way up so we have to get out of bed and sit and watch the city lights while eating a bowl of cereal at 1:38 am. I want to smell you fresh from a shower and paint your toenails and take you to baseball games and teach you hidden things that are going on that most people don’t know. I want us. I want the smell of pancakes when it’s me that cooks them and the sun hasn’t yet woken.  I want the smell of dinner when it’s us that burned it because we fell to the floor and made love instead.  I want the handprints on car windows, steamed up from the inside.  I want long baths followed by short showers and the scent of your shampoo staining my hands for the entire day to follow.  I want ears that hear the words I spill instead of eyes that read them.  I want notebooks black with ink from all the details I noticed from all the times I sat and marveled at the way you spin through an hour.

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #755 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for Tired Eyes:
I want this. I want that. I want photos of us. I want to be proud of us out loud. I want to kiss you. I want to smile and laugh. I want to make you giggle and I want to make you sigh and I want to take your breath away and I want to dance with you at people’s weddings and I want to pick you up and carry you when your feet are tired and I want to wait until you are Almost asleep and then kiss your nose and make you laugh so hard with some secret joke that your belly hurts and you smack me for waking you all the way up so we have to get out of bed and sit and watch the city lights while eating a bowl of cereal at 1:38 am. I want to smell you fresh from a shower and paint your toenails and take you to baseball games and teach you hidden things that are going on that most people don’t know. I want us. I want the smell of pancakes when it’s me that cooks them and the sun hasn’t yet woken.  I want the smell of dinner when it’s us that burned it because we fell to the floor and made love instead.  I want the handprints on car windows, steamed up from the inside.  I want long baths followed by short showers and the scent of your shampoo staining my hands for the entire day to follow.  I want ears that hear the words I spill instead of eyes that read them.  I want notebooks black with ink from all the details I noticed from all the times I sat and marveled at the way you spin through an hour.

One of the mixed blessings of being twenty and twenty-one and even twenty-three is the conviction that nothing like this, all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, has ever happened before.

Joan Didion  (via thatkindofwoman)

…or being twenty-seven.

(via my-quarterlifecrisis)

(Source: thecountryfucker, via my-quarterlifecrisis)

evening beach walk.

evening beach walk.

hi, starfish.

hi, starfish.

death-by-lulz:

emotsye:

HE MET BILL MURRAY

(Source: naydoh, via likelovers)