sometimes i realize there are so many things i won’t remember in 50 years like the way the sky looked this morning and all the dogs i saw today and my mom’s voice and i get so sad i never want to forget

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145,674 notes   -   Posted 9 hours ago

Asphalt-stained roadkill lying on blood-stained asphalt.
Arms spread in a final plea for life.
or haunches tucked in tight, head bowed down, seeking a final moment of comfort 

The raccoons and squirrels and occasional cat with its entrails dragged into the gravel and broken grass make me think of you.  There is no dignity in dying.

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5 notes   -   Posted 1 day ago

I’m just doing this now, a month later, so…

Rules: In a text post, list ten books that have stayed with you in some way. Don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard — they don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you. Tag ten (or more) friends, including me, so I’ll see…

  1. Watership Down
  2. Out of Africa
  3. Catcher in the Rye
  4. Bartleby the Scrivener
  5. All I Really Need to Know I learned in Kindergarten
  6. Anthem
  7. Their Eyes Were Watching God
  8. Things Fall Apart
  9. Into the Wild
  10. Her Fearful Symmetry 

shaunwthompson but I’m not tagging anyone to do it!  If you want to, go ahead.

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3 notes   -   Posted 4 days ago


I really miss stacking wood sometimes.

Read More

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5 notes   -   Posted 4 days ago

Father’s Day, three months ago today, was the last day I heard your voice. The last day I watched you inhale without the help of a respirator. The last day you looked at me with eyes filled with love instead of fear.

You told me to stay for dinner, that having burgers for two of my three meals for the day would be alright. You hugged me as I made my way for the door saying, “I love you. See you Sunday.” Sunday, a day you didn’t make it to, when I had promised you a peach cobbler and a game of golf in the morning—a barbecue in the afternoon.

I still miss you everyday and today, as the smell of wood smoke puffed from homes and a chill crept into the air, I hoped that you were somewhere smelling it, too.  That when you closed your eyes you imagined your kids donning work boots, trekking to the side yard, and stacking wood; preparing for the cooler nights to come.

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2 notes   -   Posted 4 days ago




thebutterflysgr ave:

am I sick from anxiety or am I actually physically ill? a memoir by me

am i lazy or horribly depressed: the sequel

does everyone hate me or am I just very insecure: the completion of the trilogy

my life in a series of books.

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524,699 notes   -   Posted 5 days ago

(Source: style-maven)

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936 notes   -   Posted 2 weeks ago

Live your life, live your life, live your life.

" I cry a lot because I miss people.  I cry a lot because they die and I can’t stop them.  They leave me and I love them more."

-Maurice Sendak, source

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3 notes   -   Posted 2 weeks ago

13 Nights of Halloween Schedule!


Night One – Sunday, October 19th
- 7:00 – 9:00 AM ET/PT: Casper
- 9:00 – 11:00 AM ET/PT: The Addams Family
- 11:00 AM – 1:00 PM ET/PT: Addams Family Values
- 1:00 – 4:30 PM ET/PT: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows: Part 1
- 4:30 – 7:30 PM ET/PT: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows: Part 2


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2,201 notes   -   Posted 2 weeks ago

Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks even on the house he’s never visited. You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona, but not nearly so arid. Don’t wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes, your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them. You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic. Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and five cranberries. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.

Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell by Marty McConnell (via seabois)

hell to the yes

(via mickeysdicksmasherseasonpass)
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1,809 notes   -   Posted 2 weeks ago

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