The Latest

Apr 19, 2014 / 854 notes
Apr 18, 2014

This is so messed up I want you so badly I just keep replaying yesterday over and over again

eyelovecats:


thisiscasey7:

forgott-en:

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.
This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.
But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.
Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.
That’s what love is. Attention to detail.
And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.
But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time. She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.
But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:
One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.
And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.


I just cried at this

I literally just cried this helps me so much
Apr 3, 2014 / 259,875 notes

eyelovecats:

thisiscasey7:

forgott-en:

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.

This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.

But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.

Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.

That’s what love is. Attention to detail.

And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.

But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.
She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.
She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time.
She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.

But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:

One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.

And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.

I just cried at this

I literally just cried this helps me so much

(via nalyomnom)

Apr 2, 2014 / 59,431 notes

cas-of-tardis:

wolforchid:

sixpenceee:

curlspray:

sixpenceee:

Who else can’t seem to stop shaking their leg?

That is called ‘Restless-Leg-Syndrome’. People who have it tend to sleep worse and suffer from depression.

oh

What really?

I didn’t know that.

Guys no that is called you have a habit of shaking your leg. I have RLS and that’s really not what it is.

(via then-that-makes-two)

Mar 31, 2014 / 7,554 notes

(via ethano1)

Mar 30, 2014 / 516,367 notes
theastrarium:

☆ Metaphysical / Spiritual ☆
Mar 27, 2014 / 757 notes
lifewithdreads:

Dreadlock selfie.
Mar 27, 2014 / 470 notes

lifewithdreads:

Dreadlock selfie.

(via beccapea)

Mar 26, 2014 / 16,267 notes
Mar 26, 2014 / 28,351 notes

(via dooblerdoo)

casualandre:

unf

OH MY GOODNESSSSS
Mar 26, 2014 / 2,992 notes

casualandre:

unf

OH MY GOODNESSSSS

(via 0n-my-way-hom3)

levynite:

IT BOINGED ONTO ITS OWN HEAD
Mar 25, 2014 / 415,185 notes

levynite:

IT BOINGED ONTO ITS OWN HEAD

(via jax)

all-nirvana:

That hug & Kurt’s red eyes though
Kurt Cobain & Dave Grohl 1993
Mar 24, 2014 / 15,966 notes

all-nirvana:

That hug & Kurt’s red eyes though

Kurt Cobain & Dave Grohl 1993

(via slurpeeeeee)

rad-king:

♕
Mar 24, 2014 / 4,252 notes

rad-king:

(via slurpeeeeee)

ethano1:

this is honestly the hottest pic i’ve ever seen
Mar 23, 2014 / 22,981 notes

ethano1:

this is honestly the hottest pic i’ve ever seen