But i'll be one tough act to follow.

Photo

Fri, 17 May 2013 02:36:10 -0400

Selfish

Fri, 17 May 2013 02:34:39 -0400

Selfish

ocean-mindedyouth: gnostic-forest: charlottegreen: i’m so in...

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 20:46:55 -0400

gnostic-forest:

charlottegreen:

i’m so in love with this. i can’t even. ah. my favourite feeling in the world is putting your head beneath the water and entering an entirely different place, so peaceful, so quiet. what i miss more than anything when i’m living away from the ocean is being able to duck under and leave all my worries on the surface.

This is extraordinary

I’ll never move further than my mile and a half from the ocean

heartless: when i was in elementary school this fucking bitch claimed that she was queen of the...

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 18:12:56 -0400

heartless:

when i was in elementary school this fucking bitch claimed that she was queen of the jungle gym and would never let anyone use it so i told her i was telling the teacher and i walked over to the teacher and pointed near her and said “isn’t the sky so pretty today” and she started crying because she thought i told and long story short i was the king of the mother fucking jungle gym

littlings: (by nathalie paige) The Girl with the Ponytail When...

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 18:10:33 -0400

littlings:

(by nathalie paige)

The Girl with the Ponytail

When I was younger, although perhaps not that much younger, I saw the girl with the ponytail as the girl who could conquer all. She was old enough not to need her mother to plait her hair anymore, but still so young that she had not yet developed any real sense of organization, limiting her mornings to quick breakfast, choice of outfit, teethbrushing, and left no time to think about her hair as she dashed out the door. So she secured her locks with a thin, sparkly hair elastic that she kept permanently wrapped around her wrist when she was not using it, and with this hairdo she would go out and do whatever people that age would do at that time. The girl with the ponytail was for me the epitome of early adolescence: her newly-pierced ears were visible and she would show off her smile, and she could easily pull her hair back if it got in the way as she was bending over her algebra homework, or while playing volleyball, or when she kissed her first boy. Whenever I was in a drugstore with my mom the first thing I would do was run to the beauty aisle and take in all of the hair accessories put on display, hoping that by touching each elastic, clip or bobby pin long enough, I would be one step closer to being transported into the realm of the older girls I so admired. The years went by, and the girl with the ponytail met a man who convinced her that her long hair was beautiful, and so she ceded her spot to me, thus continuing the cycle. But I never kept my hair in a ponytail when the time was right, but rather in a bun, as was fashionable at the moment, for fear of being ridiculed, and I never did my algebra or picked up a volleyball or kissed my first boy like my ponytailed idol had. And now I wonder at what I did wrong not to have the childhood I’d wished for, and now I wish I could meet myself as a little girl, all wide-eyed and innocent, and tell her not to expect anything from anybody: things will never go according to plan.