imagine somebody who’s immortal having a gigantic room where all the walls are completely covered up with photos.
each one is of a different loved one whom they have outlived
STOP RIGHT THERE
ahhh this already has like fifty million notes but i just thought this was a really sweet idea… i didn’t get to draw the room as big as i wanted too ;_; but this is only 1/4th of that room or something!!!!
“When sex becomes a production or performance that is when it loses its value. Be mutual. Be loud. Be clumsy. Make noises, be quiet, and make a mess. Bite, scratch, push, pull, hold, thrust. Remove pressure from the moment. Love the moment. Embrace it. Enjoy your body; enjoy your partners’ body. Produce sweat, be natural, entice your senses, give into pleasure. Bump heads, miss when you kiss, laugh when it happens. Speak words, speak with your body, speak to their soul. Touch their skin, kiss their goose bumps, and play with their hair. Scream, beg, whimper, sigh, let your toes curl, lose yourself. Chase your breath; keep the lights on, watch their eyes when they explode. Forget worrying about extra skin, sizes of parts and things that are meaningless. Save the expectations, take each second as it comes. Smear your make up, mess up your hair, rid your masculinity, and lose your ego. Detonate together, collapse together, and melt into each other.”—(via sad-babygirl)
i love physical touch. like not even kissing and stuff just like. sitting next to each other with our arms touching or our legs overlapping or walking next to each other with our arms brushing i love knowing im real i love existing with people i love it.
it’s just so funny how you can just click with some people but not others, like you can meet a new friend who completely gets you in like 2 weeks and yet have a parent or relative who still doesn’t know your simplest likes and dislikes after 20 years. its weird