I love these little children but I feel like my future ones will be pissed. *shameface*
(Source: booasaur)
(Source: suttonmercerrhasmovedblogs)
“The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself. I suppose that it begins or does not begin in the cradle. Although I have felt compelled to write things down since I was five years old, I doubt that my daughter ever will, for she is a singularly blessed and accepting child, delighted with life exactly as life presents itself to her, unafraid to go to sleep and unafraid to wake up. Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.”
― Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem (via thetinhouse)
“I love you. I know you love me, too. And when you’re ready to admit that, you come and find me. ‘Cause I’ll be fucking waiting. However long it takes.”
Alo (via lovelysad-lullaby)
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