Marla. Maryland. 21. Lesbian.

myrandomplaylist:

Paramore → Turn It Off

And the worst part is, before it gets any better
We’re headed for a cliff
And in the free fall I will realize that
I’m better off when I hit the bottom
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baby this is eye porn for you
"   There is a fundamental reason why we look at the sky with wonder and longing—for the same reason that we stand, hour after hour, gazing at the distant swell of the open ocean. There is something like an ancient wisdom, encoded and tucked away in our DNA, that knows its point of origin as surely as a salmonid knows its creek. Intellectually, we may not want to return there, but the genes know, and long for their origins—their home in the salty depths. But if the seas are our immediate source, the penultimate source is certainly the heavens… The spectacular truth is—and this is something that your DNA has known all along—the very atoms of your body—the iron, calcium, phosphorus, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and on and on—were initially forged in long-dead stars. This is why, when you stand outside under a moonless, country sky, you feel some ineffable tugging at your innards. We are star stuff. Keep looking up.   "
-Jerry Waxman (via wordsthat-speak)
"   You can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly.   "
-(via mined)
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Expressing intimacy and having a mutual want/craving for it is so important and idk that’s just how I feel.

bembali:

I just really wanna hold someone’s hand in an art museum for a few hours

"   We’ve destroyed 90% of the fishes. Coral reefs in the entire planet will be gone in 20 years. That’s an irreversible situation. That’s the first major collapse of an ecosystem on the planet. People are really ecologically stupid. We don’t realize that if we just wipe out a couple of species here, we’re gone.   "
-Paul Watson (via noshoes-noworries)
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 “Paris 1950”, Robert Doisneau
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this is a dream
"   I didn’t love him.
I barely liked him.
But he was heat at the peak of summer,
and he kissed like I was his last meal—
And I was looking for a body to drown in.
Back then, I had a candy-coated heart,
like flowers tucked in the pages of a hymnal,
and he had the thick, calloused hands
of a working man.
He talked like a friend,
but touched like an animal
and my bubblegum chest wanted that
in ways it couldn’t understand yet.
He asked what colors I kissed in
and the poet in me cracked open and spilled over—
Exposed like an open wound,
like all the soft, pink parts of me
I didn’t know about.
He was a means to an end:
my Machiavellian loss of innocence.
I don’t regret him,
but sometimes I wish I did.   "
-First, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)