wish my life was like a 90's movie where all my friends work in record stores and bookshops and coffee shops and we see really cool bands in small little clubs and get breakfast together and like hang out on roofs and shit

[ID: The poem "Imaginary Conversation" by Linda Pastan in its entirety, as it appears on Poetry.org (link here). It reads:

"You tell me to live each day / as if it were my last. This is in the kitchen / where before coffee I complain / of the day ahead—that obstacle race / of minutes and hours, / grocery stores and doctors.

"But why the last? I ask. Why not / live each day as if it were the first— / all raw astonishment, Eve rubbing / her eyes awake that first morning, / the sun coming up / like an ingénue in the east?

"You grind the coffee / with the small roar of a mind / trying to clear itself. I set / the table, glance out the window / where dew has baptized every / living surface."

End of description.]

alien

i wonder what MY smell is????? when people wear my clothes or sleep in my bed…..what does it smell like?! WHAT IS MY SCENT

I get down…on my knees for yooooou…

preserving flowers

holy FRICK good content