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Ladies book your facials, dermaplaning, peels, and microbrasion treatments for the 31st so you can set the tone for 2019. 

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Global Citizen Festival 2018

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Don’t break the circle.

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#this is the only place I can post this unless I make a wordpress #wholesome #has been in my drafts for years

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Self-reflection has led me to the conclusion that I can't spend any time trying to slander or psychoanalyze the people who aren't in my life anymore. Instead I just thank God.

#has been in my drafts for years

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By Lynda Barry  May 2016

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“I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.”

— Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and Song of Despair

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The Archipelago of Kisses

We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don’t grow on trees, like in the old days. So where does one find love? When you’re sixteen it’s easy, like being unleashed with a credit card in a department store of kisses. There’s the first kiss. The sloppy kiss. The peck. The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we shouldn’t be doing this kiss. The but your lips taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss. The I wish you’d quit smoking kiss. The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad sometimes kiss. The I know your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. As you get older, kisses become scarce. You’ll be driving home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road, with its purple thumb out. If you were younger, you’d pull over, slide open the mouth’s red door just to see how it fits. Oh where does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile. Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling. Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss. Now what? Don’t invite the kiss over and answer the door in your underwear. It’ll get suspicious and stare at your toes. Don’t water the kiss with whisky. It’ll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters, but in the morning it’ll be ashamed and sneak out of your body without saying good-bye, and you’ll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left on the inside of your mouth. You must nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a special beach. Place it on the tongue’s pillow, then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C. But one kiss levitates above all the others. The intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss. The I’ll love you through a brick wall kiss. Even when I’m dead, I’ll swim through the Earth, like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.

 - Jeffrey McDaniel, The Archipelago of Kisses

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“[…] there’s something incredibly honest about trees in winter, how they’re experts at letting things go.”

— Jeffrey McDaniel, from “The Caller,” Forgiveness Parade

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Bruh I log in for the first time in so long and niggas stole a whole damn photoset lmao.

#this is why i cannot with this website

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Coming To America (1988)

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Discovered sex that made me cry. What am I supposed to do with my life now?