Reina
'You can call me rain for all I seem to do is always fall for you.'

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Posts tagged "beautiful"

(via diarycrux)

I’ve always marvelled at the smooth transitions of colour. It’s like someone stroking your eyeballs with silk.

(via eft)

khadds:

Francois Nars photographed the most beautiful faces in the business with no makeup: Adriana Lima, Devon Aoki, Maggie Rizer, & Naomi Campbell. 

Naomi without makeup >

(via bodywarmth)

langdn:

There’s a boy standing on the corner. He’s alone, despite the fact there’s another boy beside him and speaking to him. He’s staring off into the distance at nothing in particular, looking bored and sad, and the streetlights reflect in his dark, glossy eyes. 

You can’t stop staring at him. You think he is the most beautiful boy you’ve ever laid eyes on — although these days every boy you see standing on every street corner is the most beautiful boy you’ve ever laid eyes on. This one is different, though, you’re sure of it. The poetry comes to you soon enough, and then you realize that this boy is the American Dream. 

He doesn’t know it. The sad, bored boy doesn’t believe he’s the personification of any dream. He simply believes he’s working a dead-end job and trying to get through college. Besides, if anyone were to tell him he was the American Dream, he would give a cynical laugh and tell you his great-great-someones were slaves and he can hardly go into a liquor store without being looked at like he’s going to rob it. 

Cynicism. That trait alone represents the entirety of this country. (Wave your flag, sir, and wave it with your bitterness and sadness and boredom because you are the truth.) 

You will never meet this boy, though, and you will never get to tell him who he is. He will never get to laugh at your words and blow cigarette smoke in your face. You will never be able to inhale that smoke or the musk of his sweatshirt. You’ll never get to lie naked under a red, white, and blue sheet with him. You’ll never get to tell him your silly poems about him aloud. You’ll never get to kiss his face and taste the vodka on his lips. You’ll never get him to stop looking so bored and sad and alone.

And as the light turns green and you drive away, leaving him on that street corner, never to see him again—you feel your heart break. Twice.

(I pledge allegiance to the distance between us.)

(via dracomaletoy-deactivated2014041)

I was told
The average girl begins to plan her wedding at the age of 7
She picks the colors and the cake first
By the age of 10 
She knows time,
And location
By 17
She’s already chosen a gown
2 bridesmaids
And a maid of honor
By 23 
She’s waiting for a man
Who wont break out in hives when he hears the word “commitment”
Someone who doesn’t smell like a Band-Aid drenched in lonely
Someone who isn’t a temporary solution to the empty side of the bed
Someone
Who’ll hold her hand like it’s the only one they’ve ever seen
To be honest
I don’t know what kind of tux I’ll be wearing
I have no clue what want my wedding will look like
But I imagine
The women who pins my last to hers
Will butterfly down the aisle
Like a 5 foot promise
I imagine
Her smile
Will be so large that you’ll see it on google maps
And know exactly where our wedding is being held
The woman that I plan to marry
Will have champagne in her walk
And I will get drunk on her footsteps
When the pastor asks
If I take this woman to be my wife
I will say yes before he finishes the sentence
I’ll apologize later for being impolite
But I will also explain him
That our first kiss happened 6 years ago
And I’ve been practicing my “Yes”
For past 2, 165 days
When people ask me about my wedding
I never really know what to say
But when they ask me about my future wife
I always tell them
Her eyes are the only Christmas lights that deserve to be seen all year long
I say
She thinks too much
Misses her father
Loves to laugh
And she’s terrible at lying
Because her face never figured out how to do it correctly
I tell them
If my alarm clock sounded like her voice
My snooze button would collect dust
I tell them
If she came in a bottle
I would drink her until my vision is blurry and my friends take away my keys
If she was a book
I would memorize her table of contents
I would read her cover-to-cover
Hoping to find typos
Just so we can both have a few things to work on
Because aren’t we all unfinished?
Don’t we all need a little editing?
Aren’t we all waiting to be proofread by someone?
Aren’t we all praying they will tell us that we make sense
She don’t always make sense
But her imperfections are the things I love about her the most
I don’t know when I will be married
I don’t know where I will be married
But I do know this
Whenever I’m asked about my future wife
I always say
…She’s a lot like you
Rudy francisco (via sandousy)

(via followandreblog)

blua:

Hello, gorgeous.

(via littlemiss)

Dear Samantha,
I’m sorry
we have to get a divorce.
I know that seems like an odd way to start a love letter but let me explain:
it’s not you.
It sure as hell isn’t me.
It’s just human beings don’t love as well as insects do.
I love you… far too much to let what we have be ruined by the failings of our species.
I saw the way you looked at the waiter last night.
I know you would never DO anything, you never do but…
I saw the way you looked at the waiter last night.

Did you know that when a female fly accepts the pheromones put off by a male fly, it re-writes her brain, destroys the receptors that receive pheromones, sensing the change, the male fly does the same: when two flies love each other they do it so hard, they will never love anything else ever again.
If either one of them dies before procreation can happen both sets of genetic code are lost forever. Now that… is dedication.

After Elizabeth and I broke up, we spent three days dividing everything we had bought together - like if I knew what pots were mine - like if I knew which drapes were mine - somehow the pain would go away.
This is not true.

After two praying mantises mate, the nervous system of the male begins to shut down. While he still has control over his motor functions
he flops onto his back, exposing his soft underbelly up to his lover like a gift.
She then proceeds to lovingly dice him into tiny cubes,
spooning every morsel into her mouth.
She wastes nothing. Even the exoskeleton goes.
She does this so that once their children are born she has something to regurgitate to feed them. Now that… is selflessness.

I could never do that for you.

So I have a new plan: I’m gonna leave you now.
I’m gonna spend the rest of my life committing petty injustices, I hope you do the same.
I will jay walk at every opportunity,
I will steal things i could easily afford,
I will be rude to strangers,
I hope you do the same.
I hope reincarnation is real,
I hope our petty crimes are enough to cause us to be reborn as lesser creatures,
I hope we are reborn as flies,
so that we can love each other as hard as we were meant to.

Jared Singer, “An Entomologist’s Last Love Letter” (via therealmofpi)

(via -wewereinfinite)