sorry but i think we should break up, it’s not you it’s-a-me mario
i think freckles, stretch marks, tattoos, bruises, birthmarks and scars are probably the coolest thing, you started with almost a blank canvas and look at u now, all this evidence that you’ve lived and the sun has shone on you and you’ve grown and maybe tripped up a few times and liked an image so much u made it a permanent part of u!! beautiful!!!
That’s one of the most uplifting things I’ve readThis needs to get passed around more
what if you tried to call off of work and you are just like “im sick today” and your boss was like “i know dude you’re one of the sickest bros here” and you were like “no i mean it im ill” and your boss says “yeah you the illest”
For the confusèd among you.
- Old English (Anglo-Saxon): Eft he axode, hu ðære ðeode nama wære þe hi of comon. Him wæs geandwyrd, þæt hi Angle genemnode wæron. Þa cwæð he, "Rihtlice hi sind Angle gehatene, for ðan ðe hi engla wlite habbað, and swilcum gedafenað þæt hi on heofonum engla geferan beon."
- Middle English: In þat lond ben trees þat beren wolle, as þogh it were of scheep; whereof men maken clothes, and all þing þat may ben made of wolle. In þat contree ben many ipotaynes, þat dwellen som tyme in the water, and somtyme on the lond: and þei ben half man and half hors, as I haue seyd before; and þei eten men, whan þei may take hem.
- Early Modern English: But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love!
- Modern English: Moving forward using all my breath. Making love to you was never second best. I saw the world crashing all around your face, never really knowing it was always mesh and lace. I'll stop the world and melt with you. You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time. There's nothing you and I won't do. I'll stop the world and melt with you.
After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises …
After a while you learn…
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.