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hi peasants

I'm Ali and I like art and pugs and bubble tea

I’m guilty of giving people more chances than they deserve but when I’m done, I’m done.

Turcois Ominek (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

(via getsleazzy)

Lust is Saturday night; love is Sunday morning.

She is not “my girl.”

She belongs to herself. And I am blessed, for with all her freedom, she still comes back to me, moment-to-moment, day-by-day, and night-by-night.

How much more blessed can I be?

(via asvpklla)

This is one of the most freeing statements I have seen in a while

(via livingoutmydash)

love is not possession

(via wild-moss)

(via getsleazzy)

Before you say yes, get him angry. See him scared, see him wanting, see him sick. Stress changes a person. Find out if he drinks and if he does, get him drunk - you’ll learn more about his sober thoughts. Discover his addictions. See if he puts you in front of them. You can’t change people, baby girl. If they are made one way, it doesn’t just wear off. If you hate how he acts when he’s out of it now, you’re going to hate it much worse eight years down the road. You might love him to bits but it doesn’t change that some people just don’t fit.

inkskinned, “My father’s recipe for the man I should marry”  (via dingyfeathers)

(via getsleazzy)

Once, Picasso was asked what his paintings meant. He said, “Do you ever know what the birds are singing? You don’t. But you listen to them anyway.” So, sometimes with art, it is important just to look.

Marina Abramović (via madeinmezzanine)

(via floraliris)

hickeygirl:

does anyone else have 0 feelings and then all feelings all at once

(via mathsdebater)

do you ever have those nights when you cry and suddenly every awful thing anyone has ever said to you punctures your skin and enters your bloodstream and your heart pumps it to every inch of your body and you can’t get it out

3:14am (via wanduring)

(via highimcaro)

memoriastoica:

Logging the old fashioned way in Corvallis, Oregon.
Circa 1910s.

memoriastoica:

Logging the old fashioned way in Corvallis, Oregon.

Circa 1910s.

(via whip-skids)