Rakishi, “Things my father wouldn’t say” cir. 1913. (via shattermybones)
No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side.
Or you don’t.
Stephen King (via itscherryamber)
n. a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life, and somewhere in the hallways of their personality is a door locked from the inside, a stairway leading to a wing of the house that you’ve never fully explored—an unfinished attic that will remain maddeningly unknowable to you, because ultimately neither of you has a map, or a master key, or any way of knowing exactly where you stand. (via nyctaeus)
So know that victory is with patience, and relief is with distress and that with hardship comes ease.
I am so thirsty for emotional and physical intimacy with someone
I want to nuzzle their neck and lay entwined on my bed and lazily kiss their lips and make them food and get to know every single curve and contour they have
I want to touch someone with my finger tips and make them feel loved
Does this even need a caption