I’m thinking that artistic differences should be a viable box to check for the dissolution of a relationship.
These are the things that changed other things.
I was pulling the cotton over my feet and saw that the skin was peeling.
Gross.
And I remembered how for the first few months of our relationship he would never take his socks off. It was the same time of year. It was also cold and dry out then. Later he would confess to an odd case of peeling. It is not Athlete’s Foot, he assured me. (He wasn’t an athlete, after all). This is why when I see porn with someone’s socks left on I think of love.
I feel like I am forgetting the big things.
But does one ever forget the small things?
Absolutely the best part of an ice cream cone. Mmm
Being a wee bit nostalgic back home.
What we can learn from procrastination : The New Yorker (via Instapaper)
This would just result in me becoming a nudist.
Orlando, Virginia Woolf (via fuckyeahliteraryquotes)
“There is nothing so terrible as the pursuit of art by those who have no talent.”
—W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage
Bridgett Elizabeth (via nathanielstuart)
Sometimes I rant at people in forums, and people internet stalk me and find my rants and quote them on tumblr, then I reblog them, because I’m awesome or something?
(via bridgettelizabeth)
The author of this is laying next to me cackling at her own apparent cleverness. She’s super clever, everyone. *whistles*
(via nathanielstuart)
She IS super clever, and we see this issue from the same angle. But you’re both total dorks.
(via delacroix)
(via delacroix)