Thank you, gentleman. If you should reach ninety-three, like I am, may they help you, also.
– Woman for whom I held the door. (via quityourlife) Via Quit Your Lifei like 2 touch my left hand w/ my right sometimes its like someone cares about me enough 2 touch my hand except its just me touching myself
Here
Stand perfectly still in the center of the dancefloor.
How do you feel?
Does your body hum with the rhythm of the crowd?
Or does your heart beat feverishly alone?
Badum. Badum. Badum.
Breathe.
There’s someone staring back up at me. From some place underneath the place I live. The places where I talk to my friends late at night and curse the alarm clocks that wake me up too early. Deep, deep, deeper down than anyone could dig. He moves like me, but askew. He looks like me, but not filled in. And he only comes out when it rains.
