kiss me
woowwwww
Hey, this is a blog between my boyfriend an I check us out. (click here)
Why is my ex-boyfriend’s doppleganger all up in my dashboard, yo?
(via signmeyourname)
(Source: observando, via sadielace)
Firm Request to Stop Posting Adult Cats Under Kitten Tag
I’m glad someone’s finally standing up to this. I want to see kittens not gross old grown cats.
I kind of really want gauges.
Problematic.
Yes, I’ve had some alcohol. I’m sorry. You’re all I ever wanted.
Okay, Donald. Stop calling me. I’ll take it.
Well. America was cool for two days.
When do I go back to Italy?
Things done to avoid studying
- consumed alcohol
- congratulated two friends excessively on being in a poetry reading who could give zero fucks about receiving these congratulatory remarks
- ate a muffin
- bought a salad
- didn’t eat the salad
- made a playlist for leaving Italy
- analyzed childish gambino lyrics
- attempted to register for 21 credits
- failed at doing so
- made a list of souvenirs left to buy
- attempted to dry my clothes faster by waving them around my room as I danced
- folded damp clothes and put them in my suitcase
- visualized how many pairs of shoes might fit in my carry on
- looked up the rules for United Air carry ons
- messaged three people on Facebook chat who could not give less of a shit about how I feel about returning to the US
- posted a list of things done to avoid studying on Tumblr
How to Leave a Place
You left wherever you were then for wherever you are now however long ago that you did it, but now it’s time to turn around and go back. You knew your time would have an expiration date, like buying a gallon of milk when you just need enough for that last bowl of cereal- you felt like whatever you’d have to throw away after the time went by was worth that one satisfying end result. But now you’re left with all these unresolved thoughts, wishing you had a couple extra days, a week, or even just one chance to repeat those things as they happened, all those things you did as soon as you arrived, however long ago, wherever you are now, before you were thinking about going back to wherever you were then. You’re crying over spilled milk.
People say don’t, but you should. You should feel something for the time you spent in a place that’s come to mean something to you. Maybe it was only a little longer than a vacation. Or it was just enough to call it a “stay,” like you always used to wonder what the fuck people meant when they said it. Regardless of duration, you’re going back now, and you feel almost like you shouldn’t be. You’re neither here nor there, but instead in a limbo-like space where you know that you’re leaving. And you feel this weird feeling. It’s the spillover of what you felt before you came here. It’s the familiar anticipation of knowing when your flight is, and the memory of what you’re going back to instead of the idea of what an unfamiliar place will be spilling over into the fresh memories of this place that you’ve been.
So it’s not spilled milk onto an empty floor. It’s spilled milk into cracks and under tables, around all of these things in your memory. It’s weird and you don’t know how to deal with it. How are you supposed to clean up?
Don’t. It’s not a clean break. Let the place linger in your mind. You’ll be back. The people you’ve been with are spilling, too. You’re mixed together now, and wherever you go, you’ll make a little bit of that place happen together. Go to those spots that came to mean so much to you and greet them like an old friend. Say goodbye the same way. You’ll be back. Start remembering now, while you’re still here. Reminisce as it’s happening, in the moment, so that you can almost see it play out in front of you, like watching a movie for the second time and noticing things you would have never seen the first time around. You’ll understand what this all means even better.
So cry over the spilled milk before you leave the place. Or laugh about it. Talk about it with the people you’ve found here. Take pictures of the spilled milk so that you’ll remember it forever. Just don’t clean it up. Because you’ll be back in this place, and you’ll want it all to still be there, just like your home will be there, where you’re going back, wherever you left it behind, wherever you decide home is.
And if you won’t be back, decide that home isn’t where the heart is, but wherever it was one time, and you’ll know you have a home in the place where you were then, before you went back to where you were before.
