♔ -- Making themes has always been incredibly relaxing and just soothing for me, however over the years there have been many incidents where people have blatantly taken my coding and tweaked/claimed it as their own. I will always keep my themes up and continue creating more so long as I'm on here, but please, please respect the credit where it is due!
♔ -- You may edit the layouts I've made in any way you would like. All I ask is that the credit stays right where I have put it, unless clearly shown elsewhere! To continue onto my themes, simply hit the 'forgive' link below!
♔ -- Please note: I no longer answer any theme questions. I will be posting a theme FAQ page which I will add to frequently, but until it is up please refrain from asking them. My apologies. Of course, if there are any serious issues feel free to contact me on my main blog.
i’m not sure what that is! :o inform me
Virginia Woolf, Diaries Volume One 1915-1919 (via larmoyante)
This is really important.
Richard Siken, excerpt from “Wishbone” (via littlejaw)
Hmm. That’s interesting. Unfortunately everything I post is generally considered “published”. I don’t have time to pretend I feel what someone else is feeling when they write. There is nothing that’s peeved me more than finding others taking my writing, and it isn’t even about aesthetics or appeal or any of that bullshit. It’s that I went through that post. I went through those words and I felt pain over them, and I don’t think people realize the emotions they’re dragging along with them when they repost things and claim they’ve written it. I’d love to know what they “felt” when they “wrote” it, how misunderstood it is and how far away from the raw reality of it they are. I have no need to take someone else’s feelings. I have no room to take someone else’s feelings. I have enough.
I get that polyamory is a pretty popular thing, and having threesomes with someone you’re with can in some peoples eyes ‘spice things up’, but fuck I just had a discussion about it with a friend and I literally can’t wrap my mind around it. It just doesn’t work in my head. I could never see myself being content or ‘pleasured’ watching someone else fuck or make who I’m with feel good. I literally can’t. And the person I was talking to said that it made me “too possessive”? I can’t get over that. It feels insulting and it made a pit in my stomach but maybe I’m just lack of understanding, or maybe with my personality and the way I love I’m not meant to understand. I don’t fucking know.
Someone talk me through this. What are your opinions?
I know you as legs twisted within sheets. Fidgeting. Lips bitten raw. I know you as the middle of my bed, the taste of warm skin out of the shower. A pressure. A touch. Anything.