Cinnamon ornaments with glitter baked into the dough… a spin on my fondest Christmas memories.
My boyfriend trying to take a picture of me. It’s either this or me getting sad that I got a picture taken so..
Dear Ruke-a Ray Ree,
I’m sorry that my sister abandoned you. I am sorry that I kick you in my sleep at night. You’re ugly and sound bad. But I like to play songs on you that remind me of Bishop’s, and hope everyone back in Lenny is having a lovely time…
So, Ruke-a Ray ree… what’dya say? Shall we continue this relationship because I’m a bitch? K good.
We aren’t best friends… but our pickles are. The things we do for our pickles, eh?
New dress… Oh Black Market, how I love thee. I showed it to my sister, who spilled beer on it about 15 seconds later. Bitch beat me to it. I took it as a “thanks for buying me the necklace I wanted Jill.”
(Source: discolor3d, via thefunnygentleman)
But why are you wearing these clothes?
Bringing up Baby<3
Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play… I tell you, that it is on things like these that our lives depend. — Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via bookmania)
Finally unpacking my suitcase and settling in.