love endures all things

I’m honestly so blessed. Yes, I have trivial issues that I’m dealing with but that’s the thing.. I’m DEALING with them. I’m happy with myself and who I am. To say that has been a long time coming. I’m taking control of my life and my circumstances and it feels wonderful. I’m proud of myself and my whole outlook has drastically changed over the past few months, and I have a lot of amazing people to thank for that.

I am not worthless.
I am not my past.
I am beautiful and I am strong and I am worth it.

Think happy, be happy.
I have my light back.

Thank you.

toukos:

u ever have that friend where ur like. yes lets get an apartment together. lets adopt 200 cats. lets DO IT

(via e-worc)

alonesomes:

Let me tell you how you will be loved.
Well and honest.
Patiently and reverently.
Truly and unapologetically.
With the lights on. With the lights off.
With no one but the moon watching.
With everyone watching.
Bravely. Freely.
Always. Closely. Happily.
Let me tell me where you will find
that love.
In your own hands first, baby.
In your own damn hands.

(via zoeerose)

At my funeral I do not want
doves or a bed of roses.
You know how much I hate roses, anyway.
Have my sister wear that outfit
she never had enough confidence
to wear
with those shoes that never
quite match with anything.
Hire a priest to give a sermon
about how he lost his virginity
or about the flat tire he got
on the way to his divorce court date.
Do not stifle your giggles
or feel guilty when you smile
at my uncle who is falling asleep
in the pew.
It’s okay to delight in unconventionality.
After the service,
I want you to hold hands with the person
you love the most and tell them
they need to use more hand lotion.
I want you to text your boyfriend
a poem that describes his
“shit brown eyes”
and how much you adore them.
On the way to the cemetery
blast The Ramones or anything
from Nirvana’s Incesticide album
and scream all the lyrics
incorrectly.
When my casket is lowered into the ground,
do not wipe your eyes or your nose.
Let the wind take away your mess.
When they begin to cover me with dirt
and flowers that pricked your fingers
with thorns,
whisper to my family about how you still
haven’t forgiven me for breaking your
favorite coffee mug.
Maybe you will feel uneasy,
or maybe your lips will tremble.
But as you exhale
and fill your lungs with dry air,
listen to me tap against
the wooden walls of my tomb
and let the rhythm guide the beating
of your heart.
It is okay now.
It will always be okay.
by Kimberly Siehl | At my funeral it will be okay (via hangingwallflower)

(via zoeerose)

She comes off as very empathetic, and even a little vulnerable herself, but she wouldn’t be where she is today if she weren’t a wolf under that wool suit.
by C.J. Roberts, Seduced in the Dark (via plizm)

(Source: observando, via zoeerose)

xxjessicasays:

Jodie Foster photographed by Andy Warhol for Interview ( January 1977)

She is not “my girl.”

She belongs to herself. And I am blessed, for with all her freedom, she still comes back to me, moment-to-moment, day-by-day, and night-by-night.

How much more blessed can I be?


by Avraham Chaim, Thoughts after The Alchemist (via petitedino)

(Source: avraham-chai, via asianoannieo)

dis-harmoniert:

I think I saw you in my sleep, darling,
I think I saw you in my dreams you were
Stitching up the seams on every broken promise
That your body couldn’t keep.
I think I saw you in my sleep.
I think I saw you in my sleep, darling,
I think I saw you in my dreams you were
Stitching up the seams on every broken promise
That your body couldn’t keep.
I think I saw you in my sleep.

I thought I heard the door open, oh no,
I thought I heard the door open but
I only heard it close.

I thought I heard a plane crashing, but
Now I think it was your passion snapping.

I think you saw me confronting my fear, it
Went up with a bottle and went down with the beer and
I think you ought to stay away from here
There are ghosts in the walls and they
Crawl in your head through your ear.

I think I saw you in my sleep, lover,
I think I saw you in my dreams you were
Stitching up the seams on every mangled promise
That your body couldn’t keep.
I think I saw you in my sleep.
I know that someday you’ll be sleeping darling,
likely dreaming off the pain.
I hope you hear me in the streetlight’s humming,
softly breathing out your name.

I know that even with the seams stitched tightly,
only scars will remain.
I say we scrape them from each other, darling
and let them wash off in the rain.

And when they run into the river, oh no
let the water not complain.
I swear that even with the distance,
slowly wearing out your name.

Your hands still catch the light the right way
and our hearts still beat the same.
And our hearts still beat the same.

(via loveyourchaos)

neptunain:

I LOVE WEARING TONS OF MAKEUP. I LOVE DOING FULL CONTOUR JUST TO GO TO THE GROCERY STORE. ITS EMPOWERING

(via snortdrugs)