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We don't just embrace insanity here. We feel it up, french kiss, then buy it a drink. ••• 19, norway

tulipnight:

Green Tunnel by albaderrico on Flickr.

(via jonnypxx)

"   Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her stupid. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer.   "
Azra T., “This is how you keep her” (via stevenbong)

(Source: 5000letters, via innuendothoughts)

"   Picture this:
you’re standing at the
tongue-tip edge of
wherever you are,
whatever this is,
and from here
you can almost see
everything.
Lovers waking up
next to each other,
a child discovering art
with her hands,
a lonely park bench finding
company in a weathered man,
the sun whispering
light through windows.
Picture this:
you’re standing at the
edge of the shore
with every wave crashing at your feet,
with every breath in your lungs
exhaling you alive,
and you look around,
and isn’t it beautiful?
My God,
it’s beautiful.   "
A.Y // it’s not so bad, after all (via 2wentysixletters)

(via shebelievesineverything)