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When I picture the perfect life, I imagine myself in a small apartment in a small town, but near to a big one so I can get lost in the noise if I like but I can also enjoy the peace. I would hang inspirational quotes all over the walls and small lights to brighten the place. I would have a bookcase with all my favorite books and a long list of books to read. I would take the subway to work every day and I would be able to make a living out of my ability to twist words. I have always admired the power of words to touch a person’s soul, you just have to say the right ones. And last but not least, I would come home to my best friend who would excitedly tell me about their day and all the jokes they came up with during the day and we would just relax on the couch in front of Netflix. It might not be much but it would be perfect for me.

giulswrites (via giulswrites)

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Poem for the boy I love

I see the ocean, pale and fathomless in your eyes. I see the night sky, spread faintly across your nose and cheeks, the dusting of freckles: stars. Barely even there. I see the sunrise in your eyes when you smile And sometimes the storm tremble with fear of itself, when you feel like everything is wrong with you. But, I'm telling you, my love, there is no wrong in you. All I see is right in you and all you do is blame yourself. I can't seem to stop you From feeling like that, but I promise I will try, My love. You deserve the right To see in yourself what I see in you.

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Burns, baby, burn, baby

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The way I see it life is a blank canvas and it’s up to you to paint it. Society decided to paint it blue and if you don’t want to feel an outsider and be treated like one, you have to paint it blue as well. But time passes and you don’t feel like blue is right for you, but it seems okay for everyone else so you just keep pretending. And then one day, you discover the color pink and you feel good in it and don’t care if others think otherwise.

giulswrites (via giulswrites)

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I see the stars in his eyes and taste the galaxies on the edge of his lips

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His Eyes // How I Fell For Him

He had “the Bowie eyes” they said; however, to me, they were incomparable to David Bowie’s. That is what always got me about him. The eyes. One was a crisp blue, with a grey storm lapping beneath. There was a fleck of gold in the midst of the blue, right on the edge of his pupil. His other eye was green, not the gorgeous type of green, but the murky one, with undertones of hazel; around it was a tiny rim of pale blue. That is what it was. The eyes made him a fully-fledged affliction.

~ Extract from a book I’ll never write #1

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Cigs on a roof

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will i ever have my shit together

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So, I met a boy. I met a boy when he asked to borrow my lighter even though he had one, anyway.

I met a boy with irises akin to liquid gold and honey; Who doesn’t think his eyes are pretty but I can’t think of anything more spectacular.

I met a boy who let me borrow his T-shirt; Who says he trusts me. I met a boy who bought me five dollar wine; Who called me strong.

I met a boy with thick, dark hair; A burning gaze, soft skin. Strong, capable arms; Captivating presence.

I met a boy. I met a boy. Shit. This is bad.

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Book of the week: Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty

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