goofy goober
"I was so high and you tasted like warm coffee with three sugars and lots of milk and really, i think i love you" by Someone just texted me this - coconut-cola (via perfect)

(via perfect)

"You were red. You liked me cause I was blue. You touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky and you decided purple just wasn’t for you." by Colors. (via newkidzonthecock)

(Source: se7enteenblack, via brook-lyn--baby)

thisiscasey7:

forgott-en:

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.
This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.
But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.
Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.
That’s what love is. Attention to detail.
And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.
But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time. She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.
But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:
One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.
And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.


I just cried at this
ksuwbi:

looking for new blogs! message me and ill check out your blog!
"I asked you, ‘Tell me about her.’ And you looked me in the eyes and replied, ‘Well, what do you want to know?’ and that’s the exact moment I knew you didn’t love her, not really. See, if you did you would’ve gone on about how her voice is now your favorite sound. That when she is next to another women their beauty doesn’t even compare to hers. How even when she steals the blankets at 3am you’re just glad she’s warm. That when she touches you, even slightly, it causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand. How when you kiss you don’t know whose air your breathing but you know that all you want is to be there in that moment forever. That you can see yourself having three children and a dog in a beautiful house someday soon. How her eyes are pure and truthful and when you look into them all you feel is happiness. That her laugh is what you live for even though it’s loud and obnoxious. How looking at her makes all the bad seem okay. You would’ve gone on a rant about her without hesitation, like the way I do when someone asks me why I still love you." by

(via n4ughty-y)

Yes…..all these things and more, and that’s EXACTLY how I go on and on about you.

(via lezberotic)

(via innocentblush)

relahvant:

norsegays:

astrolope:

People being angry about ~dem gays~ on Target’s Facebook.

I just want to give my two cents on this and tell you a story.

A couple weeks ago, I was hired at Target. I have a job at Target. Not a big deal right?

It is a big deal because i’m a transman

It doesn’t take a genius to conclude that it’s hard for me, my brothers, and sisters to get a job. There are legal restraints regarding the job and if you don’t pass, it’s hard to be taken seriously at a job interview.

Right on the application, it asks what your preferred name is. It also asks if there is anything that target should know. I put the fact that I am a transman, expecting not to get a call because usually when you put that down, people will throw out the application. I got TWO interviews.

At the interview, they asked me about it. I told them I am on hormones and they told me that they didn’t care. Not in the sense that they don’t emotionally care, but that it didn’t matter. I was male and that’s all that mattered. They also told me that they give sex same couples benefits in states that do not recognize them as a married couple.

At my job orientation, I was not misgendered once. Even my supervisors who weren’t sure of my gender avoided pronoun use, which I found only happens when you’ve had pronoun training. They gave me a name tag with my preferred name and didn’t ask questions. I felt safe and respected, which is huge for a trans* person.

TLDR: Target is amazing not just for the LGB, but also the T. Shop there for the rest of your life.

Target are honestly doing retail so bloody right

(via e-pic)

"Today was the first time I’d seen you in weeks. We’re strangers now. You’re a stranger I had once loved with everything that I had. A stranger I let myself get lost in. You’re a stranger who knows all of my secrets; who knows me better than I know myself. Sad, isn’t it? You let people into your life and they become a part of you, only to see them walk away. And then you’re back to where you started. Strangers." by Strangers // by c-oquetry (via c-oquetry)

(via safeslut)