Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
GOD HE LOOKS SO POLITE
- “oh is this for me? really? are you sure?”
- “well okay if you insist. i hope i’m not taking too big of bites i know some people think that’s not gentlemanly”
- “oh this is really delicious, thank you so much i mean it”
- “mmm let me just savor the taste for a bit, mmmm oh yes thanks again for that”
- “yes that is very tasty. oh no you don’t have to give me anymore you’ve done so much already i couldn’t possibly accept so much kindness and generosity, you are an angel”
THIS IS THE ONLY PET I WANT.
(Source: empirestatebuilding)
Typewriter Series #142 by Tyler Knott Gregson
It is astounding to me how Mr. Gregson has the ability to articulate things about love that are difficult to find exactly the right words for.
I Once Dated A Writer and
Writers are forgetful,
but they remember everything.
They forget appointments and anniversaries,
but remember what you wore,
how you smelled,
on your first date…
They remember every story you’ve ever told them -
like ever,
but forget what you’ve just said.
They don’t remember to water the plants
or take out the trash,
but they don’t forget how
to make you laugh.
Writers are forgetful
because
they’re busy
remembering
the important things.
Understanding the Word ‘Blessed’ for the First Time Ever
Well world,
Today I feel like telling you about how I am in love. I am not positive when it happened, and I am sure it happened too fast, but regardless of that, it is possibly the most overwhelmingly wonderful feeling I have ever had the honor of having. It feels like being made of starlight, like being able to breathe underwater, like being able to converse with the moon about what it is like to bring light to a sleeping world. Everything is new and beautiful and simply breathtaking. I smile too much, I laugh for no reason, and I am writing more music than I ever have before. I am in love, and I want to share some of this otherworldly joy with you.
:]
Kenna
Remember who you are. You are my son and the one true king.
7/15/2012
Because of you, the sun has made his home in my chest.
My ribcage embraces his warmth and his rays color my red cells
Transforming them into vessels of pure gold that
Sail effortlessly through the vertical rivers beneath my skin.
I’ve learned how to catch my breath and hold it
Before giving it to you in soft sighs from my half-asleep lungs
When your lips find mine in the quiet morning.
As I exhale, you inhale a bit of the sunlight in me, and
If I look closely I discover golden ripples in your irises,
Minute traces of the light we pass between us.
-McKenna Rose
