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1 week ago

pleasent-dreams:

This gif literally is one of the biggest wins I have ever seen.
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3 weeks ago

balenciagha:

✵
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3 weeks ago

fierrrrrrce:

http://fierrrrrrce.tumblr.com
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3 weeks ago

retoxics:

always
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3 weeks ago

rocket-pussy:

Axl, Slash, Duff, Izzy and Steven

(Source: paradise-groupie, via i-sniff-strangers)

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3 weeks ago

nedhepburn:

A while back I dated someone who, for the first four weeks of the relationship, was the “perfect girlfriend.” She was artsy and spontaneous, super intelligent yet warm, so many things. These are all interesting qualities to have; the kind of thing that goes down well at a dinner party. She could cook fairly well and we brought wine to her friend’s places. For a short while, we were an interesting early-adult couple. I gave her a necklace that said “So it goes…” on one of our better dates. She wore it almost every time I saw her after that. 
Around two months in things started to get difficult. She was working too much and I was going through a tough time. She began to detach. It was like watching a bad storm roll in; you could see it and smell it a mile off—something in the air—and ultimately, you could see it in her eyes. Where there had once been warmth and candor her eyes turned almost black; there was one point, one night, after we had tried unsuccessfully to watch a movie together, where I remember looking at her. She was upset but not crying but yet still going through the motions of crying. And then she looked up and she wasn’t there anymore, not the person I knew, anyway. 
It ended soon after. I met someone new. 
A month ago she reached out, said she wanted to meet up. Said she’d changed and that she was sorry and that she wanted to see me. She sent me letters and phone calls and emails, all saying a different variation of the phrase “some doors don’t remain closed.” 
We met up. It was good to see her, but yet it still felt less like I was talking to her and more than I was talking to a representative of her, a facsimile, perhaps a Disneyland character version of her, paid to affect the same mannerisms and norms as she, but ultimately that person that I had once known was not there. Instead of warmth there was something cloying about the way she spoke and looked at things, coming across as someone that ultimately wanted to be validated. By me or by someone else, it did not seem to matter.
Rather than end it there I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she had changed, maybe I’d just seen her on a bad day. A few days went by and I asked if she wanted to make plans, there was a dog show, some dumb adoption fair, and maybe she wanted to go. We could just walk around and look at dogs.
Several hours later she wrote back, saying that she “couldn’t love me the way that I loved her.” It seemed very odd because I had only asked if she’d wanted to see some dogs. I wrote back that maybe we shouldn’t see eachother any more, and went to look at dogs with another friend. It was a good day, and she had missed out. 
A few days after that I received a letter. In it was a lengthier version of the same thing, that she “couldn’t love me,” which made even less sense then than it had before. None of this was about love, and again I failed to grasp where that had come into play, and why she had included that phrase. It dawned on me that perhaps she wasn’t writing to me. That she couldn’t love herself. In the letter was the necklace, slightly worn. It was in the palm of my hand again. I remembered the day I’d given it to her, and the way she’d gasped when she saw it.
It had all been worth it, though, for that moment, for she had been happy then, and that happiness had been pure and true, and that is something that no amount of mental and emotional manipulation—moreso that she had inflicted upon herself—could ever change. The older you get, the more you realize that it is not your job to save people. There are times when the best help you can give someone is to simply walk away.  
I put the letter in the trash and left the necklace on a bench outside my front door. It was gone the next day. 
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3 weeks ago

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3 weeks ago

plantvibes:

The Tree of Life (2012)

(Source: ugh, via gifs-gifs-gifs-gifs-gifs)

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3 weeks ago

tittily:

send this to your crush with no context