book-surgeon

May the last inch of tea in your mug still be warm.
—  Because I know you forgot about it while you were reading.
I hope that one day when I’m lying on my death bed, I’ll look back at the times I spent with you as a teenager and I’ll smile because you made me who I am. You are a part of who I am. The drunk nights in the woods and the reckless days exploring. I will look back and be happy that even when I wanted to die, there were moments I was so high off adrenaline and happiness that nothing else mattered. You have given me so many stories to tell and I will never get tired of writing new ones with you. So when the time comes, when it’s time for me to take my final breath, I will be thankful that I grew up with you.
—  Yes sel, this is for you <3

Let me learn about you,
about all the little things you do,
about your favourite flower
and the songs you sing in the shower

Let me look at you up close
from the back of your hand
to the tip of your nose,
your prominent cheekbones
and your little toes

Let me know of your dearest story
which filled days with endless glory,
so we can lay in bed when there’s shitty weather,
to read it out loud and escape together.

—  // let me love you
j.d.m.
A banker? Me?”
“Yes, Mr. Lipwig.”
“But I don’t know anything about running a bank!”
“Good. No preconceived ideas.”
“I’ve robbed banks!”
“Capital! Just reverse your thinking,” said Lord Vetinari, beaming. “The money should be on the inside.
—  Making Money, Terry Pratchett

(On parking in cities after growing up in reasonably dispersed places with parking lots)
“I think I was worried about someone seeing my lack of experience in the real world. Like someone was going to spot me crying, awkwardly side-hugging a parking meter after unsuccessfully parallel parking, and start singing "Another One Bites the Dust” spitefully in my direction.“ -Arden Rose, speaking straight into my soul. 😂
I highly recommend this book to anyone like me who’s been sling-shot into adulthood and now has to balance things like paying bills and going to job interviews with the overwhelming desire to do nothing but eat frosting out of a jar and watch New Girl on loop for the 40th time. Arden gets it.

he was the first boy that made you brave enough
to openly want something. you bloomed like
chrysanthemums under his hands. spun yourself
gold. hung the sun from your tonsils. every time
you opened your mouth, you wrote him into light.
told him, i don’t see the dark, i only hear the birds.
made him the muse, turned yourself martyr. loved
him until your face turned blue. until your spine 
became wishbone. your body turned meadow.
grew in the midst of a frost. shook off the ice
crystals and opened your mouth. showed
him the sun. reminded him of the songbirds.
promised to keep being the light if he
promised not to swallow the dark.
—  CHRYSANTHEMUMS, angelea l.

“You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafriad of toil”
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone