So I finished my first day of my internship today, and had my first swim in the lake of the summer. Raspberry mojitos with mama this evening (:
What you tell me about in the nights. That is not love. That is only passion and lust. When you love you wish to do things for. You wish to sacrifice for. You wish to serve.

-Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (via sansyouth)

demurest: d-uhh: gospel-stitch: handrolledmenthols: Caught this gem off the redline the other day. This is my photo, please do not repost it or change the content source.  I smile every time  this is beautiful because it could mean anything. its like they have left you to finish off the sentence for yourself. it could be “let her know right now that she’s beautiful, that you love her, that you cheated, that your have cancer or that you are depressed, but there is one definite meaning to this and its: let her know right now before its too late, before you hurt her even more (if its bad), before its the wrong time and she doesn’t feel the same way (if its an emotion). that is why this is my absolute favourite picture on tumblr  ^ wow..  

Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks even on the house he’s never visited. You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona, but not nearly so arid. Don’t wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes, your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them. You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic. Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and five cranberries. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.

-Frida Kahlo   (via iloveyoulessthanpunk)

(Source: allmymetaphors)

theniftyfifties: Marilyn Monroe with Fox hairdresser Gladys Rasmussen during the filming of ‘How to Marry a Millionaire’, 1953. Photo by John Florea.
k-inyourbook: I WON THE BOOK AWARD FOR DISTINCTION IN MODERN HISTORY! (I suppose this is the department’s last ditch attempt at getting me to actually read… a book) and got a first overall in English, even with exams, which is motherfucking unheard of (FOR ME NOT OTHER PEOPLE).. AND I AM A NEW YOUNG FRIEND OF THE ALMEIDA! which is exciting because it means I can have in on cool drama projects during summer and breaks away from that godforsaken Scottish town which dries my soul and hang out with directors and other ‘likeminded young people.’ I am also newly employed, but fucking hate this sad english excuse for summer I wish I wuz wiv Ella in nice so, so, unbearably much. at least I have this cat and at least Henry Cavil is playing superman because everybody needs to exercise their right as an escapist YOU ARE SI BELLE ET SI BRILLIANT

 A FIRST

YES

it is my last free day before interning no plans no nothing (: I am going to sit in my garden and drink lime and elderflower and read Anna Karenina.


aleyma: N. Jay Jaffee, Girl Learning to Skate (Livonia Avenue, East New York), 1950 (source).

✿