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I read no books in the month
of September. See, reading was always
a way to escape but sometimes
it isn’t enough of a getaway and the
only way to escape becomes to do the one
thing you shouldn’t do to escape.

I started college in the month
of September, after not going to school
for one and a half years because
‘I can’t do it’ wasn’t an excuse, but a
physical weight pulling me
to the bed, never letting me
escape.

Half way into October, I’ve read a book
and haven’t seen my friends in
a while, and spend four days a week
with the curtains drawn and
the TV on, or my face hidden under the duvet,
three days a week pretending it’s
okay, or maybe not bothering to pretend
at all.

(r.e.s) i can’t think of anymore to say (via thoughtsintorhymes)
Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.

Some things are better left unsaid (via dearalexandra)

Oh wow

(via purplexity)

(Source: poppyflowerpoetry)

Before you say yes, get him angry. See him scared, see him wanting, see him sick. Stress changes a person. Find out if he drinks and if he does, get him drunk - you’ll learn more about his sober thoughts. Discover his addictions. See if he puts you in front of them. You can’t change people, baby girl. If they are made one way, it doesn’t just wear off. If you hate how he acts when he’s out of it now, you’re going to hate it much worse eight years down the road. You might love him to bits but it doesn’t change that some people just don’t fit.
inkskinned, “My father’s recipe for the man I should marry”  (via animalist)

(Source: thelovewhisperer)

talesofpassingtime:

A classic novel isn’t good because it’s a classic, rather it is a classic because it was important to the development of the art. And that certainly doesn’t mean that any given person, on any given day, will enjoy reading it. It means that, as a writer, I should be aware of what the classic novel changed in the historical progression of novel story telling. Some classics are pretty terrible, even unreadable, but they are still important.

humansofnewyork:

"My mom died in August."
"What was your favorite thing about her?"
"Her sense of humor."
"What was the time you most appreciated her sense of humor?"
"Probably when I was in high school and she walked in on my girlfriend and I going at it. I was too embarrassed to go back home, so she called my girlfriend, and asked to speak to me. When I got on the phone, she said: ‘Bet you went soft pretty quick there, huh?’"

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