I love when people are direct with their feelings so we can mutually understand each other and build and understanding and apologize and rebuild if needed.
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“I feel like I’m in the wrong world. ‘Cause I don’t belong in a world where we don’t end up together. I don’t. There are parallel universes out there where this didn’t happen. Where I was with you and you were with me. And whatever universe that is, that’s the one that my heart lives in.”
— Comet (2014)
“COMPLIMENTS THAT AREN’T ABOUT PHYSICAL APPEARANCE 1) You’re empowering. 2) I like your voice. 3) You’re strong. 4) I think your ideas/beliefs matter. 5) I’m so happy you exist. 6) More people should be listening to what you have to say. 7) You’re a very warm hearted person. 8) It’s nice seeing such kindness. 9) You’re very down to earth. 10) You have a beautiful soul. 11) You inspire me to become a better person. 12) Our conversations bring me a lot of joy. 13) It’s good to see someone care so much. 14) You’re so understanding. 15) You matter a lot to me. 16) You’re important even if you don’t think so. 17) You’re intelligent. 18) Your passion is contagious. 19) Your confidence is refreshing. 20) You restore my faith in humanity. 21) You’re great at being creative. 22) You’re so talented at ____. 23) I don’t get tired of you the way I get tired of other people. 24) You have great taste in ___. 25) I’m happy I stayed alive long enough to meet you. 26) I wish more people were like you. 27) You’re so good at loving people. 28) Your laugh is absolutely contagious.”
— 3:29 p.m. feel free to add to this! (via cold-winter-days)
children ages 3-5 are truly something else im a tour guide and at one point on my tour i ask if anyone has any questions and today a girl immediately yells out “have you ever killed someone? and are the bodies in the walls?”
concept: it is a quiet summer morning. warm sunlight and cool, crisp air stream through my open window. my room is heavy with the smell of flowers, vines, grass, and growth. the only sounds are of bees outside, a gentle wind chime, and my own steady, deep breathing.
i keep telling myself I am hollow, because for some reason that seems better than admitting i am full of poetry I refuse to write

