Here is what I’ve been doing since you’ve been gone.
I kiss boys I don’t particularly feel like kissing. Their mouths do not match mine, or yours.
I go to bed early, stay asleep late.
I wake up once a night and check my text messages. This is usually at 3:30 AM, and I never remember it in the morning.
Sometimes I read an entire book, and then I don’t remember anything I read.
I ask the valets in the parking garage for help zipping my dress, because I can’t do it all the way myself.
I drink a lot of coffee. Most of it is instant, because there’s no point brewing a pot when it’s just me drinking it. I don’t mind instant coffee. It suits me. It’s kind of bitter, which I like.
I get drunk faster than I used to.
I hide from you. One day I saw your face as a retweet in the minefield of my Twitter feed, and it took me two laps around Barnes & Noble to stop the wheels in my head from going haywire and my stomach from churning. Social media is always looking for new and creative ways to punch me in the gut.
I fill my bathtub up very full and very hot and slide all the way under the water so I can’t hear anything. I stay in the bath as long as I can, which lately is up to an hour.
Here is what happens in December: It snows, it gets cold. We need mittens and sweaters and big expensive down coats. I sleep in old thermals pilfered from various boys, yourself included. They’re always grey.
I spend entire days in little high heels selling cheap sweaters to women for their daughters, their sons-in-law. Families fill up the skyway and wait two hours to see a 15-minute parade. Nobody seems all that happy.
December forces people to be happy, to be in love. It’s the snow, and the cold, and the fucking holiday music playing everywhere you go – you can’t even escape it at the gas station. Merry Christmas, baby, all I want for Christmas is you walkin’ in a winter wonderland. Don’t even get me started on “What are you Doing New Year’s Eve?” Perhaps our sound system has conspired against me this year, playing only sappy and slow holiday songs. You know what I’m doing this New Year’s Eve? Nothing. New Year’s is horrible.
I am fairly happy, all in all. I have a very lovely life for the most part. I drink wine with my roommate, I sing along to the radio all day. I see people and I do things, I drive my little car all over the place. I try very hard not to get too melancholic and sentimental, thinking about the winters prior. You’re a big girl, I say to myself. You’ll be just fine.
December is the loneliest month. I like to be alone. I just don’t like to be lonely. thought catalog (via dracarys-in-the-tardis)
"Your yellow hair is like the sunlight, however sweet it shines
Bit by the cold of December, I’m warm beside your smile”
I have sheet music for Sara but it’s in a different key and I’m just like WHY FUCK THIS and I transposed it and it’s really easy.
The year is 2398, man is putting son to sleep.
Here son, let me sing you an ancient folk lullaby from North Carolina.
LAY BACK LAY BACK GO TO SLEEP MY MAN, WIPE THE BLOOD FROM YOUR FACE AND YOUR HANDS, FORGIVE YOURSELF IF YOU THINK YOU CAN, GO TO SLEEP GO TO SLEEP MY MAN.
I can get behind it.
where does joe kwon take sick animals?
I would say get out, but it’s an Avett pun so I love it.
yours is the only ocean that I wanna swing from
yours is the only ocean that I wanna hang onto.
UK grading system
Time to move to the UK
Dude I would kill for that grading scale
wait, so what is it in america then?
Anything below that is an F
is that real??
Is that seriously the UK grading scale? Guys….that’s fucking crazy. HOW IS A 75 AN A+??? BECAUSE I WOULD HAVE THE HIGHEST OF GPAs IF THIS SHIT WERE TRUE. WHY DON’T I LIVE IN THE UK?
Updated tumblr app and now my phone will play gifs. Word.