We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
—Anais Nin (via thenegrotude)
what if instead of a same gender detective partnership who keep getting mistaken for a romantic couple, you had a same gender romantic couple who keep getting mistaken for detectives
‘hello, I’m sam darling, and this is my partner gregory hitch’ ‘AH YES THE PRIVATE DETECTIVES’ ‘what??? no we just came for some ice cream why is there police tape everywhere’
Sometimes you meet someone, and it’s so clear that the two of you, on some level belong together. As lovers, or as friends, or as family, or as something entirely different. You just work, whether you understand one another or you’re in love or you’re partners in crime. You meet these people throughout your life, out of nowhere, under the strangest circumstances, and they help you feel alive. I don’t know if that makes me believe in coincidence, or fate, or sheer blind luck, but it definitely makes me believe in something.
—unknown (via fatseux)
who’s arms would I run and fall into
if I were drunk
in a room with everyone
I have ever loved
—unknown. (via holy-flesh)
damn pastell-lips alltheglittersisgold