when i was a kid we only had windows 95 and we had to sharpen the points of our mouse cursors with pocket knives to make them precise enough to click things reliably
the songs Beyoncé writes about that man are crazy it's like watching someone build the sistine chapel for a possum they found in a gas station parking lot
me: it’s not realistic to expect the type of love depicted in movies and stories, they function on an idealized notion of love that has a quick deus ex machina for situations that would require entire lifetimes to solve in real life
me, when Mr Darcy has to flex his hand after briefly holding Elizabeth’s hand in Pride and Prejudice (2005):
there's no greater betrayal than finally starting to read a book you've had sitting for months on your shelf or your desk or your nightstand and then finding out it's bad. like. i gave you a fucking home.
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dreamingatsea
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