You don’t need to buy my expensive things or take me out to dinner every night or even every weekend. I don’t need the world or want the world. I want the little things. If you push my hair out of face or rub my back. Or if you randomly kiss my cheek. Or text me randomly saying you miss me. Or if you make a tweet about me or post a picture of us on instagram. Then that’s all I care about. I want the little things. I care way more about that, than anything else.
why is peter pan always flying?
I love this joke because it never grows old
It has a nice hook.
This doesn’t make sense. I’m lost, boys
I have such a problem with secondhand embarrassment that if I’m watching something and a character does something that I find even the littlest bit embarrassing I have to either mute the TV or plug my ears and avert my eyes. It makes me really anxious.
n. the unsettling realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
You give me a boner
not a penis boner
but a boner in my heart
a heart on, an affection erection