It was half-past six in the afternoon, and I found myself walking with him under the peeking stars. I raised my hand to remove the pins that held up my hair. 

"Congratulations, Hero." he jested. He did a little bow.

"Stop it, come on. I wasn’t the only one who fought." I said, lightly slapping his arm. That morning, we kind of saved the world, but that’s another story. 

"If you say so." he said. We came to a bench and sat. My weary feet needed rest. "Where did you learn to fight with a bow, anyways?" He asked me as I removed my heels. 

"You would never believe me." I laughed.

"Come on, where?" He asked. 

”..Skyrim.” I said, referring to the video game. We both laughed. I shifted, and lied down on the bench, with my head on his lap. I closed my eyes. 

"You are so beautiful." He whispered. He brushed a strand of hair away from my face. My eyes fluttered open. 

"What about…" I whispered. I thought of my friend who was madly in love with him too. 

"That’s her," he pointed to the setting sun, "and that’s you." he pointed to the beautiful moon, directly above me. He took my right hand, and held it tightly. "Remember when we first held hands?" 

"Yeah, that was when you were joking that you’ll end up alone without a hand to hold, and I offered mine as a joke and… oh." he leaned down and kissed me. 


my first thought this morning was “count olaf should have been more thoroughly checked by social services”

Fuck ↷ you ↩ you ↴ you ↙ you ↗ you ↯ you ↳ you ↫ you ↖ you ↶ you ↓ you → and you ↺

"I’ve realized that although I love him, I can’t fix him.."

"I’ve realized that although I love him, I can’t fix him.."

i would reeeally love to stand up and go to the bathroom but you’re just too cute to disturb 

i would reeeally love to stand up and go to the bathroom but you’re just too cute to disturb 

Houtarou... are you really Houtarou?! The energy-conserving Oreki Houtarou? Is some alien controlling your mind? Or did Chitanda-san infect you with something?

Once, she had five flowers. She was happy with the flowers that she had. Each were of its own kind, unique to the others. She loved all her flowers equally. One day, on a cold autumn, her hand had slipped and lost one flower. She grieved for the flower, but realized that she still had four to love. A year had passed, and one of the flowers wilted. It lied on the floor, scattering its petals. The girl had grieved, for it was such a pretty flower, but realized that she still had three in hand. Sooner than anyone would have expected, someone came and admired one of her flowers. 

"Such a beautiful flower," she had said. "May I have it?" 

Noticing that the admirer did not have a flower, she willingly gave it, thinking that she still had two.

"She had to have it," she told herself, although she had grieved for the loss of another.

Another girl came, but it was not she who had admired. One of her flowers bent towards the other person, such like a sunflower would to the sun. “If you want so much to be with her, I would give you to her,” she told the flower. And so she passed a flower to the girl, wearing a smile to cover her grief. 

She looked at her last flower, and wondered if she had to let it go too. But no— never, she had decided. This flower belongs to the one who will give me more. 

so as a mormon one of my friends has to take two years off of his life to go on a mission or something. it’s sad, really. in my part, anyways. i was looking forward to life with him in UP (if ever we pass hehe). chaka parang ang sayang naman nun. sabi niya gusto rin nga daw niyang mag-UP pero baka isang taon lang yung ma-stay niya dun. 

eh idk what to say. i respect his religion, but, yeah. ang laking sayang. tapos after daw ng mission chuchu nya baka sa hawaii nalang daw siya mag-college or something kasi may university dun na affiliated sa church nila or something. mygawds. 

religion should not put such boundaries to human knowledge and education. this is only my opinion, but, he should not have to take two years off of college just to ‘spread the word.’ 

❝ Sometimes we get sad about things and we don’t like to tell other people that we are sad about them. We like to keep it a secret. Or sometimes, we are sad but we really don’t know why we are sad, so we say we aren’t sad but we really are. ❞

Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

(via mediwriter)

❝ I don’t like the person I’ve become;
I don’t like what the sadness has done to me. ❞

— (68/365) by (DS)

ok it’s almost four years and i still have a thing for josh. is that a good thing or a bad thing? aeriousthdjnalskgdfn i don’t know what he has. ever since i followed him on twitter, i checked out his poetry blog and i seemed to fall for his words. he tweets these lines that are just aweirthjasdkfgjvsndbwkjenrbf. whyyyy do you have to be good at writing huhuhuhu i already know that you are a highly musical dude and and knowing that such beautiful words come from you is just askrbghskfgnelrkvnadgj


Maybe I’m just not cut out to be happy.