Ya know what? It’s gonna be OK.
Hear me out. I know the passing of time of sucks, and whatever, but one aspect of it doesn’t completely blow.
You know the thing going on right now? The thing making your head spin and your chest ache? Soon, that thing is gonna be in the past. Whatever it is, you’re gonna get away from it and be able to breathe.
Just tough it out a little longer, and I promise, you’ll resolve the thing somehow.
I hate this house with every shard of my soul. These walls hold nothing but memories, howling like ghosts, and no matter how long I run, no matter how far, I always come.. HOME.
no but the best part is how he got the name:
his name was originally “potatoes,” and his owner, willoughby bertie, told the stable lad who helped him to write the horse’s name on a feed bin. the boy misheard it as, literally “pot-eight-o’s” and wrote it with 8 o’s. bertie found it so funny that he kept that as the horses name.
18th century pun. Lmao.
(Source: juanbercow, via shitmeganlikes)
Her eyelids were soft, like satin beneath her fingertips. She felt the need for control as the world wheeled around her on it’s axis taking her head to spin with it, and she was rubbing her eyes. Marveling in the delicate perfection of her eyeballs and the lace-like intricacies of her eyelashes.
The need for control.
I can be happy, here on the internet.