Alex, 22. Chicago.
I’m only taking selfies so my grandchildren know whom to credit for their flawless hair.
Spanish is a beautiful language. You don’t say “I love you” in Spanish, you say “yo quiero comer culo” which translates to “you are the light of my life” which I think is one of the most beautiful things to say to someone
I’m crying omfg
Ahahaha yes say this if you want to express your love to someone
When I give a parent of a tutee my availability and they ask if we can meet on a day where I am not only unavailable but especially busy.
Yes, I would love to reschedule my life around your kid.
This is what I love about Winter. You wake up in the middle of the night, maybe just to pee or get water or something, look out the window and see this. It’s so beautiful. And it’s silent; you have no idea that it’s happening until you just look. It almost seems fake. And it makes your bed seem way more comfortable, for whatever reason.
“My mother boils seawater. It sits all afternoon simmering on the stovetop, almost two gallons in a big soup pot. The windows steam up and the house smells like a storm. In the evening, a crust of salt is all that’s left at the bottom of the pot. My mother scrapes it out with a spoon. We each lick a fingertip and dip them in the salt and it’s softer than you’d think, less like sand and more like snow. We lay our fingertips on our tongues, right in the middle. It tastes like salt but like something else, too—wide, and dark. It tastes like drowning, or like falling asleep on the shore and only waking up when the tide has come up to your feet and you wonder if you’d gone on sleeping, would you have sunk?”
sometimes i wonder what i would think of my body if it wasn’t my own? like if someone else had my body and i was looking at it from an outside perspective? i think two things would happen… for one, i would have much nicer thoughts about it. and two, i actually just wouldn’t really care about it? because i don’t notice anyone else’s body in the way that i scrutinize my own. i wish i was better at remembering that. absolutely no one is as critical of me as i am of myself