(Source: iheart-photos)

loveyourchaos:

Do you like who you are when you’re around me?

OMG THIS.

(Source: fuckyeahweddingideas)

Do you ever get the feeling of wanting to stop time on a single, perfect moment?

(Source: blogsecret)

This made me ache.

(Source: ladyinterior)

(Source: shokoofeh)

dyinginback:

I’m at my best when I’m siring destruction in my wake. I’m my most human when someone else gets hurt.

THIS.

(Source: this--too--shall--pass)

your mom let out a deep sigh. “but it was nice when you kids were growing up. even when i was so busy that i didn’t have time to retie the towel on my head, when i watched you sitting around the table, eating, with your spoons making a racket in the bowls, i felt like there was nothing else i wanted in the world. you were all so easy. you dug in happily when i made a simple zucchini-and-bean paste soup, and your faces lit up if i steamed some fish once in awhile…you were all such good eaters that when you were growing i was sometimes afraid. if i left a pot filled with boiled potatoes for your after school snack, the pot would be empty when i came home. and there were days when i could see the rice in the jar in the cellar disappearing day by day, and at times the jar would be empty. when i went to the cellar to get some rice for dinner and my scoop scraped the bottom of the rice jar, my heart would sink: what am i going to feed my babies tomorrow morning? so in those days it wasn’t about whether or not i liked being in the kitchen or not. if i made a big pot of rice and a smaller pot of soup, i didn’t think of how tired i was. i felt good that these were going into my babies’ mouths. now, you probably can’t even imagine it, but in those days we were always worried we would run out of food. we were all like that. the most important thing was eating and surviving.” smiling, your mom told you that those days were the happiest in her life.

I think of my mother and I feel ashamed. And I want to call her and tell her I’m sorry, I know and I love her. But the words catch in my throat and instead I’ll call her tomorrow and ask her how her day is and she will tell me, ask me about school and work and we’ll hang up. It’ll take about a minute and forty-two seconds but it’ll be enough. She can hear it in my voice. She’ll know.
I hope.

(Source: ethaney)