MoreMarlene

ritikajyala:

My 13 year old cousin came back from a date with her boyfriend and said, “I can’t wait to grow up and spend sunday afternoons with him.” At first, I wanted to laugh (after all they’re just 13), but I remember being 13 and having the world in my hands. I remember getting excited to talk to someone about my dreams and wishes, and how happy these daydreams and fantasies made me. There’s this innocence you can only have at 13 and the world rises and falls and crashes and burns every year… until you do not think about quiet sunday afternoons.

So I asked her about the date and heard her giggle about bubblegum flavored ice cream, and how much she loves this little life. I think she makes me love it too.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

yourlocalnymphh:

Zainab Aamir

galvanized-galatea:

fridgebride:

sometimes you just gotta read something and say “i literally don’t care” aloud and move on

This is an incredibly valuable skill. I’ve noticed an increase in my personal happiness by doing this.

softnectar:

memewhore:

wellwaterhysteria:

floating down the river styx on an inflatable donut and high-fiving all the lost souls i pass. i’m on vacation

stay-close:

“And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed. That a creature like you exists in my world.”

— Nicole Torres

weltenwellen:

Mark Wolynn, It Didn’t Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle

mexisco:

When Mitski said: “I spent all my teen-age years being obsessed with beauty, and I’m very resentful about it and I’m very angry, I had so much intelligence and energy and drive, and instead of using that to study more, or instead of pursuing something or going out and learning about or changing the world, I directed all that fire inward, and burnt myself up.” I felt that.

cielosky:

plumstreet:

WHERE is that poem about that person learning all about their partners hyperfixation before getting dumped the last line is like “love is a stack of books on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end” I need it to feel whole help me please

NYT Tiny Love Stories, 2/11/2020

A Bookmark Near the End

He loves history. He wanted to write a biography of John Quincy Adams. I, shamefully, knew almost nothing about John Quincy Adams, so I went online and bought every biography of him I could find. One day, he called me, claiming that we wouldn’t work out long term. He said he loved me but that we had different interests. “What does love mean to you?” I said. “That’s an impossible question,” he replied. I, however, find love to be quite simple. Love is the stack of biographies on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end. — Julia Nicole Camp