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About: cody. 23.
english major.

reading. writing. sports. television. video games. dogs.

questions? just ask.

"you live and learn. at any rate, you live."

(Source: chidorii-nagashii, via afaustiancontract)

it’s never over and we’re never getting older

in the microscopic light of day
a word can be dissected like so many
eleventh grade science class projects
its arrhythmic syllables trailing out of an
incision that looks, vaguely, like
the tools of its creation
were just teaspoons and determination.
the sloppy pronunciation ends up
all over your white shirt, and memories
being the weakest kind of bleach it remains.
under a glaring halogen bulb how could we not
turn it over and over, letting the letter limbs
spill ungracefully to each side? here,
the “o”, look how it functions (but you’ve seen
better and fitter examples, surely). this “e” must
have died young (you can see it isn’t
fully formed) and oh, how tragic the circular
nature of dialogue
is. the sun or a simulation of it can set
a stage that can’t be met, and in
the end the word is worth a C-, and perhaps
you blame your equipment, or the cute
girl two rows away with a streak of closet kisses
and specks of ash on pavement
where the naivete used to be. it doesn’t matter;

in the night, the freedom of uncreased spines
on textbooks and quietly thieved hours turns
the audaciousness into bare skin. here there
are real knives, and the cuts are pond-shallow
or lake-deep. there is a certain beat to them,
an ebb and flow, and the music in a private
whisper serenades the mangled verb, the
dead noun. the moon or the black hood that hides it
are gloriously apathetic, and the cute girl
is guarded safely four blocks away by an older sister,
and you know that she can’t hear you over
the strokes record she’s probably listening to anyways.
track 10 comes on in your own room and
you tend to agree with julian and that girl
and the word that clumsily stumbles around
your mouth, like a sweat-addled rock star
high on adrenaline and some form of cocaine
smashing guitars across your tongue, and its 12:51
and you just might let it stagger out and a few
streets down. some of the best never went
to school anyways.


In ancient times, the land

lay covered in forests,              

where, from ages long past,

dwelt the spirits of the gods.

(Source: kiisaki, via aliviaghis)

(Source: jamaicanrage, via what-is-this-i-dont-even)


The Grand Budapest Hotel screenshots - cinematography by Robert D. Yeoman - 2013

(via what-is-this-i-dont-even)

My friend once told me
she liked this guy because of his hands
And I found it absurd that anyone
would develop feelings over one feature,
and not care about the rest

It wasn’t until you used your hands
to cup the back of my neck the first time we kissed
and I could feel your firm grasp pull me closer,
and my insides exploded
and my head buzzed with bliss.

And the first night you slept over,
you fell asleep with your hand
laid over my stomach
and your fingers felt like a fire
that I didn’t mind burning my skin.

The first time we got drunk,
was the first time you played with my hair,
and my god I was hooked,
I’d drink forever if it meant you’d never stop.

And in public you’d hold my hand,
and rub your thumb in little circles
that left me wanting you more,
no matter what you would never let me go,
I was glued to you,
and I honestly didn’t mind

When we talked about breaking up,
you saw my lips quiver with fear,
and you brushed over my lips with your fingers
before pulling me into your lap
and you kissed me like never before.
With your hands on my hips
pulling me so close to you,
leaving no space in between us.
It was then I realized I never wanted you to go

Its now that,
I finally understand why hands
were the only feature that mattered

Hands: Carol Shlyakhova (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source:, via -beastm0de)



(Source: patrickkingart, via greenbikerdude)


Opening - Batman The Animated Series
BTAS Gif Page

(via rossthenerd)

(Source: gameofthronesdaily, via iures)

(Source: pixelatedcrown, via aubreebree)

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