LISTOPAD // Sometimes when people talk to each other they never say what they mean. They say something else, and you’re expected to know what they mean. // "I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. You’re all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside." // She’s playing the devil very well that I forgot she was once an angel

Ci, którzy mówią, że coś jest niemożliwe przecież nawet nie próbowali.

Where’s my Oscar for acting like I didnt love you all those months.

and for all the roles I will play in the future.

memories, they mess with my heart.

Sometimes I find some light in my darkness.
(wiązka światła na twarzy)

don't go too far, I wont be able to find you.

summer nights and good company.

So good at being in trouble
So bad at being in love


"I only sleep with people I love, which is why I have insomnia."



this world is full of distance.

our eyes said it all.

YOU DON’T REALIZE HOW LANGUAGE ACTUALLY INTERFERES WITH COMMUNICATION UNTIL YOU DON’T HAVE IT, HOW IT GETS IN THE WAY LIKE AN OVERDOMINANT SENSE. YOU HAVE TO PAY MUCH MORE ATTENTION TO EVERYTHING ELSE WHEN YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND THE WORDS. ONCE COMPREHENSION COMES, SO MUCH ELSE FALLS AWAY. YOU THEN RELY ON THEIR WORDS, AND WORDS AREN’T ALWAYS THE MOST RELIABLE THING.







IF YOU ARE A TORNADO, I AM A TSUNAMI. WE BOTH DESTROY. MAYBE THAT’S WHY WE ARE SO CLOSE TO EACH OTHER.









LIKE A STAR, I STOPPED BURNING LONG BEFORE YOU COULD TELL.


pierogi wypełniasz serowym farszem
paszteciki pieczarkami
a czym wypełnasz swoje serce?

Czyje imię czujesz na języku
po trzydziestym łyku wina?

A nawet jeśli zapomnę jak się nazywałeś,
gdzie mieszkałeś,
ile miałeś lat kiedy Cię poznałam,
jakiego koloru były Twoje smutne oczy,
nigdy nie zapomnę
jak bardzo Cię kochałam.
I nigdy nie zapomnę też
jak bardzo Ty mnie
nie.

Potrafiłeś zjeść całą blachę sernika
a ja zawsze byłam na diecie
Potrafiłeś wypić dwa dzbanki piwa
a ja byłam wieczną abstynentką
Dlaczego los uznał, że się dogadamy?

Kiedy na Ciebie czekałam:
najpierw odliczałam sekundy Twojego spóźnienia
potem minuty
godziny
dni
tygodnie
miesiące
 lata.
A teraz już wiem, że przyjdzie mi  czekać na Ciebie całe życie. 

Już nie trownię czasu.
Stałam się kobiecą wielofunkcyjną.
Multitasking nie jest mi obcy.
Wciąż na Ciebie czekam, ale w międzyczasie jestem też nianią.
Opiekuję się własnym życiem.

Jestem kelnerką.
Serwuję sobie porcje szczęścia.
Czasami saute, czasami z pieprzem, czasami skropione kwaśną cytryną. 
Jestem opiekunką
dbam o swoje małe marzenia
tak jakby były moimi dziećmi.
Jestem nauczycielką,
codziennie uczę samą siebie
jak uśmiechać się
z nowych powodów.
Jestem tłumaczką,
wyjaśniam mózgowi co ma na myśli serce
kiedy bije tak nieporadnie
na widok wizualizacji wspomnień.
Jestem przewodniczką podróży,
błądzę po ślepych zaułkach
i zwiedzam ciemne zakamarki
żeby moje szczęście nigdy się tam nie zgubiło.
Pokażę mu inną, bezpieczniejszą drogę
przez trasę zwaną życiem.

Kochałam Cię
tak jak pisarz kocha swoje pióro
tak jak muzyk kocha swoją gitarę,
tak jak szef kuchni kocha swój nóż,
tak jak malarz kocha swoje płótno.





AT YOUR BEST YOU STILL WON’T BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR THE WRONG PERSON. AT YOUR WORST, YOU’LL STILL BE WORTH IT TO THE RIGHT PERSON.



"My soul is drunk,
but my feelings are sober,
oh too sober

I write in hope. In hope that you'll read.

"I wanted to dive into you, but you only let me float."

i’ve loved a lot,
i’ve fallen a lot,
for the wrong things,
with the wrong people.
and my soul grew attached,
to the idea that i will always be with the wrong one,
at the wrong time.
doesn’t poetry come from great heartache,
and doesn’t heartbreaking lines make for powerful art,
if the discovery of suffering through self,
is not my muse,
then look away,
what you see is not art.
don’t you see,
keeping myself away, disconnected from you,
has caused my soul to want to part with itself,
it’s unbearable,
but in the name of art,
it’s beautiful


AND WHEN I ASKED YOU HOW YOU’D BEEN, I MEANT I MISSED YOU MORE THAN I’VE EVER MISSED ANYTHING BEFORE.


"I could write a novel about your existence and you don’t even think of me"

fortiituude:
“ I LOVE THIS
”





“I’ll never beg you to stay. If you want out of whatever it is we have, the door is always visible. But.. that doesn’t mean I won’t want you to stay or that each time you run through my mind I won’t be hit with a knotting pain screaming for “uno mas”. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop missing you or that it won’t be a continuous struggle. I was once called selfish for hanging on too long and when it comes to you I want to be totally selfless, to keep your feelings a priority, keep them safe. Relationship or not you’ll always be in my heart but please keep in mind that once you open that door you leave the possibility of it forever staying closed.”

So much can happen in little time. 
So much happens inside of me when i hear you talk, at the sight of your lips or when our eyes meet. Oh baby when our eyes meet, galaxies are simultaneously formed amd destroyed. So much happens when i see your name, so much, so much. I loved you, that's what happened. 


They ask me what happened.
I loved you, well, that's what happened. 


Sexy Sunday Lingerie (2)

Sexy Sunday Lingerie (3)

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i only felt 
how much i missed you, 
when i had the world given to me, 
and only wanted to share it with you.


QUESTION: WHY MUST THE STARS BE FRAMED IN CONSTELLATIONS?
ANSWER: BECAUSE THEY, LIKE YOU,
ARE BEAUTIFUL,
THEREFORE INCOMPREHENSIBLE.









Whos name made you drink enough to forget your own

"I want your all time attention; when you need me and when you don’t. When you’re lonely and when you’re not. When you don’t feel like talking, I want you to share your silence with me and when you do, make sure you give me every little detail you can think of. When you’re mad, pour it all on me, against me and I’ll take you. When you’re sad, crawl within my heart and make home of me, let me feel you. Complain, I love it when you do. Go away and let me run after you, I know you love it when I do. But at the end of the day please, don’t forget to love me like you always make me crave you ‘cause I’m greedy in your love and you’re the one to heal me." 


"She’s like a song, she can be your favorite but you do not own her, and if you get bored of her, doesn’t mean she’s not beautiful anymore, as there are many other people that still admire this song and still is their favorite and many people will hear it and it can be their favorite, what I mean is, just because you don’t like someone anymore doesn’t necessarily mean they changed or there’s anything wrong with them, and just because you like someone doesn’t mean you own them, and if someone doesn’t love you anymore it doesn’t deny that once you were that person’s favorite song. 

"Your love left scars on my heart. When I tried to conceal them, I ended up turning my heart into another shape." 

"You’re always here, always there but never near enough to feel you close." 

"You’re like the song I always skip but never delete." 

he’s the reason I believe in magic." 

For example: A man who quit smoking for 11 years stood in an elevator with another man smoking a cigarette. He gave in.
What I’m trying to say is I think I love you again.

"to you, i was a piece of art, but to me, you were a whole museum." 

"You’re nowhere near but I can feel your presence like a soft breeze." 

IF LOVE COULD HAVE SAVED YOU,
SHE WOULD HAVE LIVED FOREVER. 

"I want all the details that you don’t even get to notice about your day. I want to know about your dreams and every little silly wish you think it can never be real. I want your love to be poured on me in ways that never existed before. I want you like no one and I want you to want me more than a reality can handle." 




And I guess that’s how you know when you really love someone. You put their safety and happiness before your own. You put your pride aside to give them what they want. Even if that something isn’t you. And no matter how badly it hurts sometimes, you do it. In silence, for them. And that’s what unconditional love is.














How wild is it that every version of you probably exists still, somewhere, in someone’s memory? The messy you, crying on the floor exists still in your mind. The happy, sun-soaked you, exists in your best friend’s memory. No part of you has died, all parts of us exist always, simultaneously and hidden. 


i need a silk robe and a balcony to wear it on

"I think of you a lot. I think of you and me walking along in a parking lot at night. Our shoulders rubbing against each other as we listen to our voices. We’re both damaged and beautiful. We know the order of order and the order of disorder. We’ve both been hunted and nearly destroyed by weaklings with big ideas. We know the night." 
"Let’s have the conversations we’re not having. 
Let’s talk about why we don’t talk. 
Let’s tell each other what we’re really thinking. 
Let’s lay out our hurts. Our hang-ups. Our hearts. 
Let’s admit our failures and ask each other’s forgiveness. 
Let’s show each other who we really are and see if there can still be an us after that. 
-let’s talk" 
"I know you just needed somebody and not me. But I’m happy that you chose me as somebody." 
"She is the war I could never win." 
watching you leave felt like watching every star fall at the same time ,
leaving nothing but a dark empty sky to stare at.

As it has been said:
Love and a cough
cannot be concealed.
Even a small cough.
Even a small love."

"I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds."

"Reality continues to ruin my life."

 can’t help but attach every poem I read to you.
Love, heartbreak, happiness, sadness- everything in a poem is about you.

let this love be the ocean in which i drown, 
please.

"It’s funny because I’ve always wanted to be somebody’s muse. Everyone else is mine, and even though I write about the things I feel, in essence I only write about those who make me feel these emotions. I want to know what it’s like to be the reason someone can’t sleep at night because they have verses or paragraphs or chapters or books or ideas running through their mind. Because that’s how I feel about you. You inspire me, you follow me in everything that I do and every time i breathe in, you invade my body and sit still right in my heart. You flow through my pen and you are my art. It’s all you."

"I bet if we dusted her heart for fingerprints, we’d only find yours."

"Soon we will be strangers. No, we can never be that. Hurting someone is an act of reluctant intimacy. We will be dangerous acquaintances with a history."

"We were meant to cross each other’s road, but we can’t forget we were going in different directions."

"Give me a chance and i’ll show all the love that can come out of somebody like me for somebody like you."

She carried fire on her fingertips, and you wondered why her touch burned long after she was gone.

I always miss you, even when you're here. It's the old you I miss the most. 

"I’m in love with your brokeness. It’s okay, we can be broken together."


"One day, whether you are 14, 28 or 65, you will stumble upon someone who will start a fire in you that cannot die. However, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find - is they are not always with whom we spend our lives."




"There is no reason not to consider the world as one gigantic painting."

"We were meant to be beautiful together 
but we don’t follow the rules now, do we.

"I mean I still miss him you know, I don’t think anyone ever forgets the people they once fell in love with. And its not like we broke up because I stopped loving him, he stopped loving me. If love was a one sided thing, we’d have a lot more happy people in the world."




"She told me that handwriting comes from the heart, as she stared at her messed up, chaotic words."



“She told me that handwriting comes from the heart, as she stared at her messed up, chaotic words.”




“She walked away,

Hoping she’d be missed,

Yet ended up being forgotten.


“She sat in silence, hoping her eyes would say the things her mouth couldn’t.”


“It will hurt me,
If I let go,
But it will destroy me,
If I hold on.”


“You were not crazy,
everyone else was,
for never telling you,
how amazing you are.”


The best feeling in the world is when you work so hard to achieve the impossible and actually make it possible.

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”


thelovenotebook:
“Good Vibes HERE
”

"I think a lot about who we meet and why we meet them and why we want them to stay in our lives, or leave. I believe that we have lovers and we have soulmates. Lovers might stay, you might end up living with them, getting married to them. You love each other. Soulmates will leave, they will break you, they’ll make you question yourself, they’ll also make you feel things you’ll never feel with anyone else, they’ll start a hurricane in your life, and if you’re lucky you know they’re your soulmate before they leave. Soulmates will light up fires inside of you that you’ll think are impossible to turn down but the thing is, as soon as they leave, so does the fire. They won’t mean it when they hurt you, but they inevitably will. That’s the only time you’ll ever truly feel that you belong with someone and if you’re lucky they’ll feel the same way. But it will never work, it will never work as two bright fires can only cause damage unless they are torn apart."


"It’s about misunderstandings between people and places, being disconnected and looking for moments of connection. There are so many moments in life when people don’t say what they mean, when they are just missing each other, waiting to run into each other in a hallway."

est-il possible qu'on soit si proche, pourtant si loin, l'un de l'autre?

que m'on coeur ne batte que dans l'attente de votre voix?
que mes levres continue a etre si roses et si fraiches dans l'esperance que les votres les retrouveront bientot?
est-il possible de perdre un amour si fragile, si volatile que le notre?
si je vous ecris ces mots aujourd'hui,
c'est que c'est fini, 

"It happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want, and then you realize that people you’ve known forever don’t see things the way you do. So you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on."

"Her love for him would never die.
His love for her had never lived."



the first thing i looked at when you were standing in front of me were your hands. i wondered if you had ever touch the love of your life with those hands, if you had ever wipe away tears that were falling for you with those hands, if you ever held other hands when you weren’t supposed to.
i imagined those hands writing those words that i can’t forget, i imagine those hands immortalizing your thoughts and feelings. feelings i’ll never come close to spark. ever.
i depict those hands touching me, always slowly, always with care.
i would have given the world to feel these hands either caress my face, or break my heart.
either way,
it would have been,
your hands.



Not a bit.

"You know when you make a cup of tea and you don’t drink it straight away because you know it’s hot and it’ll burn you so you wait for it to cool but suddenly you forget and you take a sip later and it’s cold and doesn’t taste that good anymore and you slightly wish it was scalding hot rather than a disgusting cold even if you know it would’ve burnt you it’s better than having no tea. That’s how I felt about him."

YOU WERE MY CUP OF TEA.

The song said “I’ll forget you some other time” and I’ll do that. I’ll forget about you but for now I just want to be alive and enjoy the idea of you, I want to love things about you that don’t exist. You were the greatest missed opportunity I’ve ever had. You are my prettiest disappointment, you cause the most tasteful tears to fall down my face. It’s the first time that I love someone who does not exist and it feels gracefully good because I feel like I have power of the hurt that you impose to me, but I truly don’t. I only control how blissfully happy you make me feel, but the heartache and the pain is all from you. Regrettably I cannot impose my will to your actions, I cannot direct you to the path that leads to me and it’s funny and ironic because the path to you is so open and it’s so clear and I see it and I’m blindly walking towards you, towards your demons and your thorns and everything that could hurt me and that could kill me. And it’s a conscious decisions, it’s a very conscious decision to walk towards you even when you don’t even see me coming. And I wonder why, why do I walk towards you when I know I’ll end up bleeding by the time I get to you, why do I keep going when I know I will end up being broken just like you, if not worst. Maybe it’s because you hurt less than the average, maybe because you are broken you can focus so much energy on destroying other people. But you still do it and I image if you were complete and okay how would I do. Do I enjoy suffering? I know that I enjoy loving something I’ll never have. I know that I enjoy seeing you, hearing your voice, seeing you walk but that’s it, that’s all I need to love you. That’s all it takes to start. So I’ll stop, rest assured. But not today, no, not today.






“Why would you keep staring
at the raindrops on your
window if the sun has already
started to shine again?

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flyartproductions:
“Straight up to my face
The return of spring (1886), William-Adolphe Bouguereau / Fake Love, Drake
”



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Have you ever cared someone for no apparent reason? And I really mean for no apparent reason? Not for your very close friend not for anyone you know but for someone who’s more like a stranger. You know their name, you’ve had a few casual conversations but nothing serious or deep. Have you ever starred at someone from the other side of the room because you just like seeing their eyes, or because you feel like they need to say something but no one is willing to listen and you just want to give everything up to listen to them, or because you feel like they want to break down and all you’re waiting for is the signal for you to hold them as they collapse in your arms. But at the same time you can’t possibly talk to them, you always stumble upon your words when you’re in front of them, you feel a rush when they come in the room. What is this? Cause you don’t know enough to love them, but you know too much not to care yet they have not told you anything.


"I am in the mood to dissolve in the sky."


"A lot of people who are artists don’t understand it themselves. Especially the young ones. They feel different, but they don’t know what it is. They feel more. Everything hurts. Everything. They’re super sensitive. They see things that other people don’t see."


Hollow home

Here, in your

Heedless touch
Here, in my
Haggard eyes
Here, love lives no more

Hollow home
Here, in your
Heedless touch
Here, in my
Haggard eyes
Here, love lives no more

Questions I will ask you if we meet again:
I. You believed in love so deeply and the way I made you feel, how do you live knowing it wasn’t enough for you?
II. How do you ask to see all of someone’s soul yet when they need the warmth, you only provide the cold?
III. When did you know that what you wanted, wasn’t me and why did you wait it out, just to abruptly leave

Now
when I stare at my hands
I realize they are no longer 
mine;
they are
yours.

I didn’t need you anymore, but I still wanted you in my life. Maybe that was naive of me - to stick around when I was constantly forgiving you for all that you did. 
Time after time, I took the hit. And every time I told myself it would be the last time, I forgave you once more.  You forced me to grow up too fast, but still, I forgive you for that too

Some day, one soul out of the seven billion in this world will touch you in all the ways you cannot explain; in all the places hands cannot roam, and where lips cannot kiss.

Sometimes you let them in again, and I’m not sure if that makes you brave or foolish because there’s always the risk of being hurt or left with more scars than the first time around. Somehow, this person is worth it. They are special and they mean more than the heartache they put you through; they are worth the heart throbbing, heart stopping, heart wrenching moments every time you stare at them after all you’ve been through. I’m not sure if that says more about you than it does about them - how they let you endure another form of pain while staying in your life, or, how you continue to let them be your moon while you are the wave

"In the beginning every sand castle thinks it stands a chance against the tide."


In the silence so much is said.





maybe loosing you will mean,<br />
finding a little part of me. <br />
that drowned with this love, <br />
that drowned in your arms. </p>

<p>maybe we are only good fiction,<br />
and terrible realities. <br />
and as much as we try, <br />
i will never be complete with you. </p>

<p>and you will never be worthy, <br />
without me. </p>

<p>so shall i loose you, to find me, <br />
or will i stay so you don’t loose yourself.


Longing is the fuel of recklessness.





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  Model:&nbsp; Elaine Maria   Make-up and hair:&nbsp; Kelly van Etten

  Model:&nbsp; Elaine Maria   Make-up and hair:&nbsp; Kelly van Etten


“My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you. But for every real word spoken, for every attempt I had ever made to speak those truths for which I am still seeking, I had made contact with other women while we examined the words to fit a world in which we all believed, bridging our differences.”







Kirstin and Tyson VanSkiver for Atlas Magazine






y3:
“
”


Adam Secore for Atlas Magazine


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delta-breezes:
“ @federico.sette
”

Ewa Hajbos | @hajboss


I used to dream about escaping my ordinary life, but my life was never ordinary. I had simply failed to notice how extraordinary it was.


Stefania Gambella | @stefiinstax


When you’re talking to someone about love, you’ve got to start at the end. That way they know what kind of story you’re telling.

I want to make beautiful things, 
       even if nobody cares.





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maffashion_7s



Nie róbmy laleczek wodoo, nie wynajmujmy seryjnych morderców i nie zatrudniajmy Rutkowskiego, aby wytropił naszą następczynię. Kobiety po rozstaniu często zapominają o własnej godności i wartości i hej - to wcale nie objaw desperacji! - a po prostu dowód na to, że nosimy w sobie duszę wojowniczek. Odłóżmy jednak broń, bo nie ma już o co walczyć - jeśli ktoś świadomie zrezygnował z tego, co chciałyśmy mu podarować - jego strata. Tylko i wyłącznie jego. Cóż, loserzy i przegrani są wśród Nas i możemy im jedynie współczuć i wznosić w górę wypełnione po brzegi czerwonym winem kieliszki z nadzieją, że od naszych toastów zmądrzeją. Cenne prezenty, takie jak bezinteresowna miłość przyjmuje się z uśmiechem na ustach i wdzięcznością w sercu, a nie z braku laku, albo 'skoro chce mi coś dać, no to w sumie opcjonalnie przyjmę'. Jeśli ktoś Cię nie doceniał, albo wyobrażał sobie życie bez Ciebie - poskradał zmysły, ale przestań o nim myśleć zanim Ty też je stracisz. Życie jest za piękne, a świat ma Ci za wiele do zaoferowania, aby za długo stać w miejscu, nawet jeśli było to najwspanialsze miejsce w Twoim życiu. Nigdy nie dowiesz się czy nie istnieją lepsze, jeśli nie ruszysz się z miejsca. A obiecuję Ci, że istnieją. 

Jak więc szybko zapomnieć o złamanym sercu i pozwolić mu się bezboleśnie zagoić? Wyjmij z apteczki bandaż, plasterki i lecimy z pozostałymi prozdrowotnymi procedurami. 

dźwięki bywają lecznicze, więc proponuję muzykoterapię. Tylko żadnych smętnych ballad o ckliwych tekstach pokroju 'i hate that i love you/i miss you because you are my world'. Nie. Terapia tego typu zakończy się wyjmowaniem 2 litrowego opakowania lodów czekoladowych zzamrażalnika. Wprawdzie kakao też bywa dobrym terapeutą - jednak nasze biodra go nie lubią. Wolą innych lekarzy. Lżejszych. Mniej słodkich, ale za to konkretniejszych. Hips don't lie, 

Upiększ swojego byłego w Photoshopie, lub w dowolonym programie graficznym (byleby nie w Paincie, bo może on uczynić stworzone przez Ciebie pryszcze mało realistycznymi!)
To opcja nie tylko dla uzdolnionych artystycznie. Poziom estetyki Ci się nie przyda, wręcz przeciwnie - im niższy, tym terapia będzie skuteczniejsza. Cienie pod oczami, wypryski, wysypka, przebarwienia, atopowe zapalenie skóry, czarne plamy, powiększenie nosa, pomniejszenie oczu i ust - hell yeah! Sprawdź jak Twój luby będzie wyglądał za kilka lat - przyjrzyj się stworzonej przez Ciebie wizualizacji uważnie. Chciałabyś z kimś takim mieszkać? No przecież, że nie. A za karę za to, że tak brutalnie Cię potraktował te wszystkie niedoskonałości NAPRAWDĘ pojawią się na jego twarzy, bo karma dopada każdego. Zacieraj rączki i uśmiechnij się szeroko. 

Obudź w sobie lesbijkę duszę damskiego towarzystwa

Żartuję, nie każę Ci zmieniać orientacji. Jednak leczniczym krokiem może być uświadomienie sobie, że nie potrzebujesz wcale w swoim życiu mężczyzn, aby poczuć podekscytowanie, radość i żeby w Twoim oku zagościł dziki blask, a na ustach jeszcze dzikszy uśmiech. Kobiety ze sobą rywalizują, oceniają pod każdym względem, snują intrygi i wielbią dramę, ale jednego nie można im odmówić - kiedy trzeba, potrafią być naprawdę solidarne. Wino, film o niezależnych singielkach i pidżamy? Sounds like fun i nic nie postawi Cię na nogi tak jak ta myśl o trzeciej nad ranem 'hej, z nimi też jest fajnie! Tyle śmiechu i żartów - który facet by mnie tak rozbawił? Nawet Jasiowi Fasoli by się to nie udało...' . Idźcie na szalone zakupy (o ile Twoja karta głośno nie protestuje przeciwko temu pomysłowi!), pozwól prawić sobie komplementy i przyjrzyj się swojemu odbiciu w lustrach przymierzalni i zauważ, że naprawdę pięknie Ci w czerwieni. Tak uwodzicielsko. Pozwól, żeby czerwień uczyniła Cię kokietką, bo pewnie już zapomniałaś jaka to frajda nosić na ustach czerwoną pomadkę, a na paznokciach jeszcze głębszy jej odcień. Czerwień to nie tylko kolor złamanego serca i tryskającej z niego krwi - to też kolor nowej miłości, która na Ciebie czeka. Pomóż szczęściu i kup tą czerwoną, obcisłą spódniczkę!


Naucz się gotować. 

Niech Twojemu byłemu cieknie ślinka nie tylko na myśl o tym jak chętnie zdjąłby z Ciebie sukienkę, którą masz na sobie na nowym profilowym, ale też na myśl o obiadach, które mogłabyś mu ugotować. Ale nie, nie udoskonalaj swoich kuchennych umiejętności dla niego - z całym szacunkiem, nie jest już tego wart! Jego ślinotok ma być tylko skutkiem ubocznym, podczas gdy tak naprawdę poznasz kulinarne tajniki z myślą o kolejnym partnerze - droga do serca może i nie prowadzi tak naprawdę przez żołądek - przynajmniej tak sugerują chirurdzy - ale nie zaszkodzi spróbować. Przynajmniej nie będziecie musieli angażować już ziomka od pizzy i kolację ze śniadaniem uszykujecie sami. Widzisz już to oczami duszy? Powinnaś. A jeśli jednak nie to załóż duszy dobre okulary, albo chociaż soczewki, aby wyraźnie zobaczyła tę wizję. 


Uśmiechaj się.

W swoim życiu często słyszałam, że wydaję się taka niewinna i radosna, bo za często się uśmiecham. Nie sądzę, aby był to błąd, bo nic co powoduje wzrost hormonu .... we krwi nie może przecież nim być. Często myślę natomiast o tym, że większość ludzi utraciła umiejętność unoszenia swoich kącików ust i odsłaniania zębów - a przecież to takie seksowne. Jak myślisz kiedy istnieje większe prawdopodobieństwo, że przystojny brodacz z pociągu postanowi do Ciebie zagadać: 
- kiedy jedziesz ze słuchawkami na uszach, czytasz depresyjny romans, a Twoja mina mówi 'bez kija nie podchodź, ale z kijem też nie próbuj, bo Ci nim przywalę' 
czy może
- kiedy błądzisz wzrokiem po przedziale, uśmiechasz się nieśmiało i Twoja mimika sygnalizuje, że nudzisz się niemiłosiernie, ale jesteś pozytywnie nastawiona do świata, więc łapiesz kontakt wzrokowy z ludźmi, bo oglądanie świata jest przecież ciekawsze od spania ? 

Nie żebym potępiała czytanie i słuchanie muzyki (noł, noł, jestem od obu czynności skrajnie uzależniona!), ale czasami musimy wyłonić się ze świata wyobraźni, żeby złapać kontakt z realem. Wyłoń się z wirtualnego świata z zalotnym uśmiechem, a masz +10 punktów już na starcie.
Chociaż istnieją oczywiście smutni faceci, którzy szukają równie smutnej laski - u tych masz natomiast -10, ale nie sądzę, żebyś z którymś z nich na dłuższą metę wytrzymała, więc specjalnie się tymi ujemnymi punktami nie przejmuj, bo choć ujemne, mimo wszystko działają na Twoją korzyść.


Nie bój się spontaniczności i randomowych rozmów






- co powiedziałaś?
- co co? bo nie usłyszałam 
- no pytam Cię co powiedziałaś
- to tak jak ja, bo też właśnie Cię o to pytam

komunikacja XXI wieku. Przez messengera jednak łatwiej! 

Some people look for a beautiful place, others make a place beautiful.


"I imagine conversations often. They usually involve you and they involve me, we’re never just speaking though. We are either speaking and loving, or speaking and touching, or speaking and fucking. See, these conversations are usually non verbal, yet I always understand each and every little thing you tell me when you touch me. What I often struggle to know is whether we are loving, touching or fucking. I know that we speak, I just don’t know what we feel."




http://grafiterka.pl/naglowek-bloga-ozdobna-czcionka/#more-8631
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grafiterka.pl
http://grafiterka.pl/jak-ukryc-ze-masz-bloga-na-blogspot/
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https://www.scentbird.com/blogger
http://theatlasmagazine.com/best-places-learn-retouch-youtube/
https://www.instagram.com/damagedmagazine/
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http://preview.themeforest.net/item/gossipblog-pure-simple-personal-wordpress-blog/full_screen_preview/12953860?_ga=1.24493370.1230275960.1474451289

https://www.beslow.pl/library/
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