the whole concept of flirting is just lost on me most of the time really. whenever someone is like “oh they were flirting with you” i’m just like. what. whenever someone is like “were you flirting with them?” i’m just like. what. whenever someone is like “oh you totally were flirting with them!” i’m just like. what. what is flirting. what is going on. what. i have no idea what’s going on. what
I so read those “what’s” in a duck voice.
“No one’s life seems great between midnight and 7 a.m. Go to sleep. Things will be better tomorrow.”— (via cryingful)
I profoundly disagree with this. I know it may be true for some - maybe many - people, but for someone who has difficulty living at home, those house were, for me, the magic ones. The witching hours. When rain falls on the conservatory roof at five o’clock and I am the only one to hear it. Sitting on my wide, clean kitchen floor at half three in the light of my fridge. The solidarity and quiescence that surrounds me in the living room at two, when even the birds are not awake. Top tip to anybody who is finding it difficult to live at home: get sleep, sure, but once in a while, stay up past your family. Let the sleep spell take them and not you, then stay in the arms of the night and breathe what it means to be free in a prison, and stretch your arms out wide in the darkness of a house that is repainted black and only lit with the colours of the stars, and when morning seems too bright for you, remember that. It’s magical.(via this-is-just-what-loki-wants)
You had a conservatory? O.o
Happy 47th Birthday Impala (April 24th)
American english is like real english but badly spelled…
Canadian spelling is like someone went through this buffet line and just said: I’ll take that one and that one, and no, I like that u, but also that z.
British English is like English if it was French. A lot of extra letters.
Reblogging for the Canadian bit, because its so true.