Dont Neglect The Specs.

Je ne regrette rien...

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Dear Future Daughter:

1) When you’re at some party, chain smoking on the roof with some strange girl with blue hair and exorbitant large dark eyes, ask her about her day. I promise you, you won’t regret it. Often times you’ll find the strangest of people have the most captivating of stories to tell.

2) Please, never mistake desire for love. Love will engulf your soul, whilst desire will emerge as acid, slowly making it’s way through your veins, gradually burning you from the inside out.

3) No one is going to fucking save you, anything you’ve read or heard otherwise is bullshit.

4) One day a boy is going to come along who’s touch feels like fire and who’s words taste like vanilla, when he leaves you, you will want to die. If you know anything at all, know that it is only temporary.

5) Your mental health comes before school baby, always. If its midnight, and you have an exam the next day but your hands have been shaking for the past hour and a half and you’re not so sure you want to be alive anymore, pull out that carton of Ben and Jerry’s and afterwards, go the fuck to bed. So what if you get a 68% on the exam the next day? You took care of yourself and at the end of the day that will always come before a high test score. To hell with anyone who tells you differently.

Abbie Nielsen (viapassionandcoffeestains)

Dont grow old. Dont grow up. Just grow.

(via dontneglectthespecs)

Don’t grow old. Don’t grow up. Just grow.

(via dontneglectthespecs)

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Today for you, tomorrow for me...

<p dir=ltr>
Perhaps one day soon you will wake up and realise why once upon a time we were best friends. Before the short dresses and the make-up and late nights and double vodkas. When music used to be our lives and dancing was freedom not routine. Before you decided you were headed for the high life and leaving us townies behind to wear white collar shirts and sell groceries to old ladies who sit on park benches and wish they had followed their dreams back when they were seventeen. If you forget then we will disappear, you'll come home for Christmas to find closed shutters and street lamps with missing bulbs. We don't serve cocktails here or pile slices of lemon into our pints of Fosters to ward away the invisible mosquitos that buzz amongst the hazy british sun; but we drink wine from the bottle and are still the classiest birds in town. If only you knew what you'd left behind, perhaps you would have stayed a while. I admire you for having aspirations; we all have dreams...but I do not intend to live my dreams alone. </p>

Filed under aspirations dream dance friends wine