lilyyevans:

for the girls the fairytales abandoned

(via the-masked-writer)



I think she was afraid to love sometimes.
I think it scared her.
She was the type to like things
that were concrete, like the ocean.
Something you could point to and
know what it was.
I think thats why she struggled with Love.
She couldn’t touch it.
She couldn’t hold onto it
and make sure it never changed.

I think she was afraid to love sometimes.

I think it scared her.

She was the type to like things

that were concrete, like the ocean.

Something you could point to and

know what it was.

I think thats why she struggled with Love.

She couldn’t touch it.

She couldn’t hold onto it

and make sure it never changed.

(via whispers-of-the-memorykeeper)


me: time to write the next chapter
me: *gets distracted*
me: *gets distracted*
me: *opens word document*
me: *checks tumblr*
me: *writes one sentence*
me: *eats chocolate*

Finishing an article always feels like a huge accomplishment. I love that feeling! I wish I could feel that way about my creative writing. But in order to do that, I have to actually FINISH something. 


So me and research and writing aren’t getting along at the moment. There’s a lot of stuff going on with getting ready for the vacation and with the magazine and blah. Excuses. Yep. I need to get rid of those. Then maybe research wouldn’t be so bad. 


I loved you in tidal waves.
now I know why storms are named after people (via theflowersinmyheart)

(via rebekahlynnlove)


I can’t find my notebook with some character descriptions and it’s bothering me. I’m trying to rewrite their story. I’m probably gonna delete what I have and start over. It worked last time. Maybe it will work again.


Thinking of a bunch of stories to write. None of which are my novel; the one story I’m supposed to be writing lol.


heavenly-demon:

Me right now.

(via poetryandfingerprints)


i want a word for the almost-home.

that point where the highway’s monotony becomes familiar
that subway stop whose name will always wake you from day’s-end dozing
that first glimpse of the skyline
that you never loved until you left it behind.

what do you call the exit sign you see even in your dreams?
is there a name for the airport terminal you come back to,
comfortably exhausted?

i need a word for rounding your corner onto your street,
for seeing your city on the horizon,
for flying homewards down your highway.

give me a word for the boundary
between the world you went to see
and the small one you call your own.

i want a word for the moment you know
you’re almost home.

there and back again, n.m.h. (via anoraborealis)

(via dailydoseofcolor)