And most of all, I want to do nothing with you. I want to spend a Sunday at home, me in my corner, you in yours, reading or working or writing, silently in our spaces. I want to be so together that we don’t have to say anything at all, that we can just watch it rain and drink our tea and occasionally look at one another and smile. I will wonder why I ever thought that Sunday was for running errands and cleaning and getting things done one after the other, when it is so clear that spending them silently across from you is so much better.
I want to have every bit of Sunday with you, every Sunday, because you are simply too good to end on a Saturday night.
Damn, girls with leg tattoos sure take a lot of bubble baths
うずまき by Junji Ito | Eyes
Often-overlooked mural of old New Orleans (circa 1805) that’s behind the left-side counter inside the French Market - salad section and cash registers further to the right.
One of the little details that makes Disneyland layered and nuanced.
Bryan Cranston’s favourite erotic fan letter [x]