A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
Robert Frost (via poetry-and-insomnia)

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cumdmpster:

i rly wanna be choked 


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I’m still learning
how to just
be.

(40/365) by (DS)

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nymphetgarden:

Namaste means “my soul recognizes yours” not “I tripped really hard at a festival once and now I’m filled with the wisdom of the Earth”


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songs-about-leaving:

Joyce Manor - Leather Jacket


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readmore-worryless:

"Too many books?" I believe the phrase you’re looking for is "not enough bookshelves".


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