Well , hello there. Feel free to look around. I'll just be back here, in case you have any questions.
ok you know what scotland where do you get off having all this cool shit and hot people and kilts and stuff
because look at these fucking things
THESE ARE FAIRY POOLS, YOU CAN FIND THEM IN THE ISLE OF SKYE AND YOU KNOW WHAT?
SCOTLAND STOP HOLDING OUT ON ME HERE
Jane, who has been dead for 31 years,
never could have
imagined that I would write a screenplay of our drinking
that it would be made into a movie
that a beautiful movie star would play her
I can hear Jane now: “A beautiful movie star? oh,
for Christ’s sake!”
Jane, that’s show biz, so go back to sleep, dear, because
no matter how hard they tried they
just couldn’t find anybody exactly like
and neither can
In loving memory of my best friend Jane who left this earth one year ago today. I read this poem for the first time several months after she died. It haunted me more than the dreams I had been having about her. She really was the girl in this poem, she was the more irreplaceable entity I’ve ever imagined. But she’s gone.
I promised not to be sad for no reason anymore after the dust settled. I learned that all those days that I felt put off for no fucking reason at all were my own doing and total waste. It’s not as easy as I’d hoped.
All I wish for, all I dream about, is one more day with her. I can never have it. Makes life feel pretty pointless sometimes.
But it’s all for her now. That’s what I think when I get too down. She doesn’t get to get up in the morning anymore. She doesn’t get the opportunity. So who the fuck am I to waste mine.
After she died, my friends and I would call each other just to say we loved each other. That was a pretty special time. I hope some of you will do that with your friends right now.
Rest In Peace
Jane Elizabeth Goff
Dec. 13, 1983-Dec. 8, 2012
me to every dog i see (via nerdiegirlie)