Workwear
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https://instagram.com/p/BMS6VFkjQiW/
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It’s only been a year (and two months of dating) but I can’t remember what it was like before you came into my life.
My heart is aching for some reason. I can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s because I miss too many people right now.
YIkesssssssssssssssssssssss.
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Fuck Ariana Grande for making me believe in love
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Everyone, Grace Miceli (@artbabygirl)
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MISS CARLY RAE REALLY OUT HERE RELEASING A VIDEO ABOUT SELF CARE AND JERKIN OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
https://youtu.be/U0ih3FriG1k
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Saw a coyote when I walked you to your car the other day.
Do you believe in omens? I do.
I just don’t know what this one means.
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“You smell of honey, of desire,”
— Remy de Gourmont, tr. by Jethro Bithell, from “Hair,” c. June 1858
(via violentwavesofemotion)
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what I mean is
we all have glass tongues
and learning to speak / hard truths
invents a shattered language
what do you think it is I am
holding / up to the light
— Todd Dillard, from “Interview with an Addict’s Son,” published in The Boiler
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Oct. 18: a portrait
Too many coffees and half a pack of cigarettes.
Crisp, cold, fall air.
Steaming bowls of soup.
Phone ringer on silent. Notifications off.
Recovering from the caricature of intimacy. Relishing in new (?) forms of it.
Not entirely sure what this is or where it’s going. But I’m learning to be okay with uncertainty.
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My Heroes Have Always Been Junkies
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