One day, he’s going to know. He’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents names. He’ll know how old you were when you learnt to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. He’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. He’s going to know why you’re awake at 5am most nights, where you were when you realised you’d lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. He’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. He’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He’s going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dream of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. He’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s his favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organise your DVD’s alphabetically, and check your horoscope… just incase. He’ll know your McDonald’s order, how many sugars to put in your tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He’s going to know how you feel without you telling him, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. He’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? He is still going to love you.
a map of London
and he’s realizing his memorization of the city has faded
N O P E
No you don’t get it.
He had to DELETE IT
to make room for other information
Imagine what else he had to get rid of
Dammit Tumblr. Stop making me cry before the season has already started please? Oh God look at the confused look on his face.
This was actually Harrison Ford improvising. There was supposed to be a long complicated battle where he used the whip to disarm the guy, but Harrison had dysentery and it was hot and he said “Hey Steven can I just shoot him?” and Spielberg liked it so much it went in the movie.
Dysentery never looks so delicious
That guy who he shot spent months training with the sword
Ford was literally on the verge of dying during this part of the production.
First rule of the Doctor Jones fandom ALWAYS reblog this gifset when it comes on your dashboard.
You know, that one with the awesome loner female lead with a swell braid in her hair
The one who was associated with a certain element
And had an optimistic little sister she loved a lot
I especially loved the part where her dress transformed into a different
Oh, but let’s not forget the great male characters!
Like the sweet blonde guy
And the stern but handsome brunette
Yeah, it was such a great and unique film!
Not Iambic….Do Not Accept…
These tags I’ll pop, and boast in rhyming verse
that what I wear puts swagger in my gait;
though twenty shillings have I in my purse,
my self-esteem and manhood both inflate
when lofty furs I purchase for a cent.
Thy grandpa’s clothes are worthy salvage, though
they smell a trifle musty. Still, I spent
much less to dress myself from head to toe.
To save or not to save? The question’s moot.
I’ll never give my coin to high-street crooks.
These dusty shelves will yield their hidden loot
to those, like me, more frugal in their looks.
Like ancient coins washed up on distant shores,
I’ll find my treasures in these thrifty stores.
- Macklemore, “Thrift Shoppe”
*Crying with laughter*
ITS IN IAMBIC PENTAMETER. SWEET JESUS THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE THING.
THIS IS THE MOST BRILLIANT POSY I HAVE EVER SEEN.
Guys, that’s not only Iambic, that’s a fucking sonnet. *claps*
Grammatically correct for the period and a couple of references to Shakespeare’s actual works.
I’m sincerely impressed.
Don’t do this to me tumblr.
I was going to reblog this earlier but I waited so that it could be my 10000th post cos it’s the saddest and most beautiful thing I’ve ever read, absolutely amazing..
so much chills
this is one of those rare text posts that really changes my perspective
i have tears in my eyes
I feel like I got punched in the gut