every 1st september we joke about getting ready for hogwarts to cover up the very real and very very deep scars of never getting our letters
no one has a crush on me. i am too strong to be crushed
i. I think I have fallen in love with September because of the way it is the beginning of change, or the end of it. You see, it is the when I say goodbye to my flip-flops and bikinis, when I turn my back on the scorching summer sun. But I am welcomed in the arms of colored leaves and Autumn breezes and I have never felt more in place.
ii. September weeped with me when I was left by the first boy I ever kissed. It witnessed a bright sunflower transforming into a dead tree with bare branches, not a leaf in sight. The dirt swallowed my tears and the wind covered up my cries. It stayed with me night after night until the sleeves of my sweaters dried up.
iii. I learned that trees did not die when the weather turned cooler in September. The falling of leaves is what helps the tree survive through a bitter cold winter. It seals the places where leaves would grow in order to skip the game of death. So maybe people are that way too, closing up and thinking it is the end; but it is not.
iv. Somehow, I like to associate September with endings but I have to say that it has brought many new starts in my life as well. Friendships, new hot drinks at my favorite coffee places, odd adventures, and new feelings.
v. Change isn’t bad. Change is the falling of leaves; one, two, three leaves slowly touching the ground. And between those shades of orange and yellow and brown is a voice calling your name. You may not want to make a mess but you’ll end up with a smile on your face the second you dare to jump in."
Man I am paranoid.
sorry to break it to you all but being a fan of someone is not a competition, in competitions there are losers and winners, but in a fandom there are only losers and it’s all of us
My dad and I made this fishtank for my mum for Christmas a few years ago with dollhouse furniture. I thought it was pretty rad
i cant believe your mom is a fish
Plitvice Lakes, Croatia (by Vesna Zivcic)
I almost spit out my water
I just want it to rain- like real, proper, cold rain. I want to sit by the window wrapped in a blanket with Ben and Cindy on my lap while sipping from a mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. I want to lean against you and memorize your scent and listen to the raindrops until we both drift to sleep.
Happiness comes from the simplest of things.