Hello there, I'm Faye and I just turned 18. I love garlics and onions and I'm not a fan of chocolates and cheese. If you like whipped cream as much as I do, we can be friends.
danielodowd:

white imposing by luca biolcati renaldi
i-shot-the-stars:

untitled by .victoria. on Flickr.
coffeeandlaugh:

Cake & Roses.
winterfellis:

untitled by aprilsaur on Flickr.
Isn’t it sad? How we let technology decide which direction things went. I could have been the love of your life. Or maybe not. And maybe you could have been that boyfriend I would always keep in my heart, no matter how many others would come after. Maybe, this would have been just a summer affair, but who knows, we could have had a great Christmas together. What if the view of blooming almond trees behind my smile turned out to be one of your favorite things next year? I wonder if we would have made plans to go on holidays together next summer, too. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder… I will probably keep wondering a long time from now, despite the fact that I know those are nothing but hopeless thoughts. Because instead of walking up to me and showing me that charming smile of yours the first time our eyes met, you chose to ask a friend of yours to get my number. Because instead of running to greet you when I saw you there, dazzlingly playing basket in the park, I chose to wait three hours, get home, then text you saying I saw you with your friends there. Because, instead of kissing each other when we were desperately aching for the other’s embrace, we let pride decide that none of us would message the other first. That happened a Wednesday, and a week later I kept checking your WhatsApp last seen, instead of writing, instead of calling, instead of showing up at your door and saying ‘Hey, I just really wanted to see you.’ Because on a Monday, you were dying to hear from me, but you were the one to text first the previous night, so of course it was my duty to text you first then. But I didn’t, and your ego decided that waiting for me was the right choice. And my ego decided that I had texted you first many more times than you had, and my ego and me wanted to see if you would message me first two days in a row. But you did not. You ignored me. Actually, you didn’t, but you wanted me to think you were ignoring me. But not in your mind. And I did. I ignored you too, or so it seemed. But not in my mind. You fell asleep thinking about me. I woke up dreaming about you. You tweeted songs. I wrote poems. I still do. Two months from now on, I still will. But your songs probably won’t be for me anymore. And in case they are… In case they are, love, this is what you’ll do: Forget about me. Forget about technology, and go out. Find her. And when you do, go meet her at her door. We both deserve something better than unspoken words, hidden messages in lyrics, and people ruled by pride, ego and unsent texts. All humans do.
- E.B. (via nocturnials)

(Source: a-ionia, via nocturnials)


wildstag:

14.01.13.newapartment.02 by Scout & Catalogue on Flickr.
motleycraft-o-rama:

By Claudia Bryant