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Heartbreak isn’t beautiful. It isn’t fucking poetry, it’s not staying up ‘til 4 am listening to sad songs. It’s breaking down in the middle of a busy street. It’s seeing their face in all the people you pass by. It’s feeling okay for weeks at a time and then all of a sudden, you feel the ghost of their lips on your neck and their nails on your back and then you’re choking on memories of their presence. It’s waking up from dreams of them coming back and screaming in the middle of the night because your chest aches like a rotting tooth. Stop romanticizing pain. Stop using people like they’re objects. A heart isn’t a cigarette - you can’t just light it up and then stomp it out when you’re done. Don’t act like anything about heartbreak is beautiful, because I wouldn’t wish that feeling upon my worst of enemies.
(via nikkitcasooa)

prongsvssquid:

tbh dress codes are fine as long as they are about looking professional and appropriate for a learning/working environment and not about ‘don’t distract the boys’ and slut-shaming, and as long as it’s enforced equally for all genders

it is the sexist attitude about it that needs to be changed, not the fact that there *is* such a thing as dress codes

brokenpencilsharpener:

I have these two neighbours and they’re married and they gotta be like in their late 30s and I’m making dinner and I look out the window and they’re running around outside in their pajamas and bare feet with water pistols soaking eachother and laughing so loud it made me realise I’m wasting so much time trying to make relationships perfect when all that’s really needed is someone who will laugh with me for the rest of my life

(Source: lost-and-so-not-found)

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