“You Fit Into Me,” Margaret Atwood
you fit into me
like a hook into an eyea fish hook
an open eye
Still one of my favorites.
Ryan Gosling Won’t Eat His Cereal by Ryan McHenry [website | twitter]
[video] [h/t: tastefullyoffensive]
Look, it’s been three days and I still can’t stop laughing so FINE I’ll reblog.
(Source: jensensations)
you fit into me
like a hook into an eyea fish hook
an open eye
Still one of my favorites.
Heavy-Handed: Ever Told You by Chelsea Martin. Too good.
“Find me, electricity.”
(Source: Spotify)
(via Hyperbole and a Half - Depression Part Two)
“And even if everything still seems like hopeless bullshit, maybe it’s just pointless bullshit or weird bullshit or possibly not even bullshit. I don’t know.
But when you’re concerned that the miserable, boring wasteland in front of you might stretch all the way into forever, not knowing feels strangely hope-like.”Two days ago I found myself on what I thought was a still abandoned hyperboleandahalf — one of the first blogs I loved, one of the first blogs that made me feel okay with oversharing because maybe sometimes people don’t share enough. There is something wonderful and special about being able to tear up at a bar with a friend or interrupt your own story with a sudden cock of your head as you say, “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this before.”The next day I saw that she was preparing for an update today. And today happened, and Allie Bosh is still as amazing and important ever.
TODAY IS A HOLIDAY
This is perfect.
…If nothing is wrong, what are you scared of?
(Source: Spotify)
That time I thought I was in love
and calmly said so
was not much different from the time
I was truly in love
and slept poorly and spoke out loud
to the wall
and discovered the hidden genius
of my hands
And the times I felt less in love,
less than someone,
were, to be honest, not so different
either.
Each was ridiculous in its own way
and each was tender, yes,
sometimes even the false is tender.
I am astonished
by the various kisses we’re capable of.
Each from different heights
diminished, which is simply the law.
And the big bruise
from the long fall looked perfectly white
in a few years.
That astounded me most of all.-Stephen Dunn, from New and Selected Poems 1974-1994