Photo reblogged from Sxythsne with 4 notes
I’ll be leaving for a week, and seeing as my girlfriend and I often trade our sweet nothings through craftily placed post-it notes, I’ll just leave this here…
<3
Photo with 34 notes
New Life Goal: To watch Inception whilst heavily doped up on painkillers.
Challenge accepted.
Video with 13 notes
All I have to keep you safe is hope, all I have to give is love… and I hope that love is enough. Fly safe babe. <3
But it’s been weeks since I felt your lips and I’m a fiend for my queen so I need a fix,
Only for now I’ll settle for these talks on the phone,
But I cut my arm off for a moment alone,
With the one that I cherish whether in Rome or Paris, Amsterdam or Japan,
Please note that I am thinkin’ bout my baby as much as humanly possible,
An’ I know you’re frustrated cause life has too many obstacles
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50 Cent on a wide variety of engrossing topics on Twitter. Now on Tumblr!
Semi-Related: Click!
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Real christmas is gonna be so freakin’ amazing. ;D
I want a (japanese geisha) hippopotamus for christmas,
Only a (japanese geisha) hippopotamus will do,
Don’t want a doll, no dinky tinker toy
I want a (japanese geisha) hippopotamus to play with and enjoy (and snuggle!)
<3 see/snuggle/kiss/fit with you soon, my love <3
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Picture Unrelated [I]
Whenever I come home, I always wind up digging through my room in search of who-knows-what nonsense. My reward is almost always laundry and cat fur, but once in a while something of interest will come out of hiding.
This time I found this notebook I kept a few years back, wherein I wrote some pretty, well, some ugly stuff. Not, like, morally ugly or anything like that, it’s just that the style isn’t particularly attractive. Still, there’s a certain charm to its inadequacies, which makes me think it might be worth taking back into my possession.
From the first page:
“Sometimes I’ll see someone who looks good - really good. So good, in fact, that I’m forced to write down shit like this. Anyway, I want to tell these people how beautiful they are, and not simply because they possess a "properly” curved physique or a $400 vestment, but rather because every atom of their being seems to radiate perfection and belonging in that moment. I want to tell them this, I want to tell her how her pale teeth and open eyes imbue her with a supernatural vibrance, how his windswept hair and brooding visage just fit. But I can’t. I hesitate, I reconsider, and I try to recapture those epiphanies of perfection in words I hoard jealously to myself. Life’s a bitch when you’re an anxious romantic.“
Bonus: "Ten years from now, Justin Beiber’s girlfriend gets an abortion; protestors play ‘Baby’.”
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