dyspond-blog

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Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

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ur purpose on this earth isn’t to be liked by everyone why would waste ur time trying to live such a restrictive existence trying to impress everyone like who really gives a fuck

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Do you ever not want to share your music with anyone because it's like no... that's mine.

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one of the best things abt meeting someone who’s survived the same shit as u is the warm fuzzy feeling u get when joking abt ur similarly damaged psychological states & terrible coping mechanisms

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I’m in my mid-twenties, and honestly get so much hate over being childfree that I’ve started telling people I have an adopted daughter when they ask about my kids. I just conveniently leave out the fact that my adopted daughter is, in fact, a 40-pound sheep, one of roughly two dozen that live in my back yard.

It isn’t even a lie, I raised that lamb on a bottle from the day she was born, as far as she’s concerned I’m her mom. And as long as I’m vague enough, the problems of dealing with sheep sound totally believable as human toddler parenting problems. “Oh yeah, my daughter’s two, she always puts everything in her mouth.” “Ugh, my daughter is always climbing on stuff, I swear she’s part mountain goat!”

I live for seeing how long I can keep it up before someone asks to see a picture of my little darling. “Sure!” I say, “Here she is! Isn’t she adorable?” then relish the horrified confusion when they see this tiny little brown sheep like:

It’s the best thing. It’s my favorite thing I’ve ever done, next to raising sheep in the first place.

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There’s something so pure about someone who’s excited to be around you. Like yes tell me you want to see me, tell me when exactly you want see me, tell me you want to kiss me, tell me you miss me, tell me you’re looking forward to next time we meet. Vocalize

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i love rainy days bc they are perfect for listening to music, reading or just resting on the bed

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g a z e b o

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Silly Symphony - Flowers and Trees directed by Burt Gillett, 1932

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FOOD TEXTURES

croquant- crunchy

mou- soft

aigre- sour

sucré- sweet

salé- salty

amer- bitter

épicé- spicy

crémeux- creamy

friable- crumbly

gras- greasy

juteux- juicy

mûr- ripe

avarié- spoiled

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girls are so pretty, I think I’ve seen like one ugly girl and it was me

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me, still in bed: i can’t wait to get back to bed

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I don’t really wanna die but I don’t wanna live either

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I hate how you’re just born out of nowhere, forced to go to school and get a job. What if I wanted to be a cat.