If You Have Spotify Reblog This And Tag What Your Number One Song On Your “on Repeat” Playlist Is.

YOU

Sweetheart, you own me, body and soul.

Promise that you'll fight to hold on. Promise that your hand won't ever slip out of my grasp.

Promise that you'll never let go. Not if you can help it.

Believe it or not, I need you.

More than the air that I breathe. More than the blood in my veins. More than the water that quenches my thirst.

I've needed you everyday since we first met.

I don't know what I'd do if I'd lost you.

It'd destroy me. I would be a shadow of myself, a soulless shell. I'd be nothing without you.

You're important to me.

Please know that.

I couldn't possibly live without you. I can't even fathom it.

Don't you dare tell me that you are not worth my time.

Darling, you're worth every beat of my heart.

Why, my lovely, it only beats for you.

Only you.

BEE KINGSLEY

i want to sleep but i got no energy, ya know? so bloody exhausted up to the point that i can’t close my eyes without crying.

how bloody fitting on a sunday afternoon.

don’t you all just love life sometimes?

GIRL

When I was sixteen, studying for an exam in the school library, I met a girl.

Not any old girl.

It was obvious that she wanted to be a man but it was obvious that she was not quite ready to admit it and she clung to her female pronouns the same way a fictional knight clung to his pig-iron shield against the fiery breath of a dragon.

This was a girl who had seen life in ways, with certain hardships, I could never imagine.

A girl with brown mousy hair that was hastily chopped to her chin and above her pastily white bare shoulders as if she had cut it with a pair of garden shears, dark eyes reminded me of the mud that dripped off the bumper of the right side of my mum's car from when she drove through the murky countryside visit to my grandma's house, wrinkled lips that were pulled so far back by her tight skin that I could see where her cheekbones arched and how much her sallow cheeks had been sucked in as if there was a vacuum residing under her skin.

I had never met anyone quite like her before.

There was a dwindling fire in her brown eyes, lined by sore red scratches where it was obvious she had itched away the hay fever that made her heavily pierced nose sweat and run with snot.

I was tired that day. I knew that I wouldn't be able to sit through the exam without my head drooping towards the table like a weeping willow and my eyes dying to slip shut.

She could tell that I was struggling, so she grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me awake.

Mind, I'm perfectly sure she was sober.

I was worried that I was going to fail the exam and that my mother would punish me if I didn't do well. This girl wasn't buying an ounce of my unnecessary panic.

She looked deep into my soul and whispered, slurring her words like a drunk man, "There's no room in life for other people's bullshit."

Such crude words of wisdom from such a wise young person.

After all, it was those very same crude words that changed my life and gave me the courage to take the reins of my own life.

Girl, if you’re out there, and you recognise yourself within my words, thanks for being a tough bitch and giving me the harsh truth.

BEE KINGSLEY

imagine wearing these boots. i so badly want a pair.

Footwear by Elena Velez x MORPH.

The boots must be bolted around the feet using custom bolts.

📸: Tania Diego / Juan Camilo.

there’s nothing there! no fair!

new tumblr game: google ur username, go to the images tab, and see what comes up

i just slept through it and prayed that when i awoke, the bloody “maintenance” page had gone.

it really is crazy how quickly people were willing to just let chatgpt do everything for them. i have never even tried it. brother i don't even know if it's just a website you go to or what. i do not know where chatgpt actually lives, because i can decide my own grocery list.

bumblxbitch

replace one word of your url with bitch

this is so beautiful! there are tears in my eyes!

arabic poetry is so beautifully yet painfully romantic, i mean “they asked “do you love her to death?” i said “speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life" and “because my love for you is higher than words, i've decided to fall silent" and "it is not enough to say love in Arabic, you must say 'be the thing that buries me'" could have got jane austen crying and shaking

So, I have thick desi waves for hair and, omg. baby, don't even get me started on how much of a hassle it is to sleep in it.

It used to be down to my butt, but I managed to lob it to my biceps.

First, I brush my hair and almost go bald in the process, tie my hair back with a strong fluffy black hair bobble and then plait it relatively loose.

Then I tie it off with my reliably strong, but simple, red hair bobble.

And I would leave my hair like this until the very last moment before I go to bed. I take out the fluffy hair bobble, put my head on my pillow and go to sleep - all with the red bobble in place.

I would wake up the following morning with a good enough hairdo to be comfortable out of the house.

The best bit is that my bed hair doesn't even look like bed hair.