funkylove: cafini: outer: aspettandoellis: (via visualflows)
funkylove: cafini: outer: aspettandoellis: (via visualflows)
You have a serious problem of distorting reality. You could sleep with the entire planet and still feel rejected.
Tom : No, you know what ? I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.
Summer : Nothing’s going on. We’re just ..
Tom : We’re just what ? Just what ?
Summer : We’re just friends …
Tom : No. Don’t pull that with me. Don’t even try. This is not how you treat your friend. Kissing in the copy room, holding hands in Ikea, shower sex … Come on, friends my balls.
Summer : I like you, Tom. I just don’t want a relationship.
Tom : Well, you’re not the only one who gets a say in this ! I do too ! and I say we’re a couple, god damn it !
funkylove: juwannuh: classics: robot-heart: (via eatsleepdraw)
The trouble with fiction… is that it makes too much sense. Reality never makes sense.
flickflickflicker: dorkvader: pwnator: noahkai: slumsofshaolin: (via alacar)
I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.