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Dani

@nocturnalsunset

Sundays are always special for all of us. It’s “the” day when we all just lay back and enjoy being a lazy bump without feeling guilty. We all have our own unique way of celebrating sundays. For instance, on my happy sundays, I indulge myself in all the things I enjoy. Waking up without the shrilling sound of alarm is one of the best part. Enjoying my favorite book or watching a good movie after waking up makes it even better. But most of all, the joy of just lying in bed without worrying about anything, is the most gratifying feeling in the world. So all you people out there, enjoy your happy sunday to the brim. You can always go back to everything on monday.
i. You are beautiful. No, not pretty. No, not like just the flowers. You are beautiful like the ocean. Deep and full of hidden beauty underneath. ii. You are the best thing that happened to me. Like a celebration, like a feast. You are a daily event that I would never get tired of. You made everything worth the fight. iii. You are enough. Or more than enough. Like an overflowing excellence. Whatever you do is magic to my eyes, you are magically clearing out hates and curses. iv. You are a gift from God. A spinning cloud of surprises. You are a gift. You are my present and we are the future. v. You can do it. You are the most beautiful competitive beast. Go on, reach for the stars, no one can stop you.

Keith Torres, 5 Things Every Girl Would Love To Hear (via wnq-writers)

I don’t treat you the way I do because I want something in return. I treat you the way I do because that’s the only way I can be at peace with myself. So no, I don’t expect the same kindness in return. But wouldn’t it be nice, for just once to be treated in a similar fashion?
Her soul contained tiny fragments of the universe. Her mother’s laugh that comforted her, the hint of brown in her lovers eyes, her galaxy backed journal. She was everything from her favourite song to her innermost thoughts at 3 am. She was the tears that she drowned in at 2 am and the songs she hummed at 2 pm. She was the coffee she drank on a rainy day and the books she read in the summer. She was every place she ever visited and every place she was yet to encounter. She was every boy she liked and every boy she didn’t. She was every page of poetry she wrote and every conversation she ever had. She was the person you ran to at 3 am sobbing. And every person you smiled at 9 am. She was like a piece of unfinished poetry or your favourite novel missing the last page. A beautiful enigma that was just waiting to be solved by the right person.