Hegemony
“Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to
museums, and parks, and monuments,
and kiss you in every beautiful
place, so that you can
never go back to them
without tasting me
like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most
beautiful way possible.
And when I leave
you will finally understand,
why storms are named after people.”
— Paraphrased and mixed from Katrina, M.K., and Unknown
"Any man can grab a women by her hair
throw her on the bed and rip her clothing off.
Sure he can tie her up, call her a “bitch” or a “slut”
and have rough sex with her. But that is not dominance…
that’s rough sex, maybe even violent sex. If she’s into it, it can
even be fun but that’s still not true dominance.
True dominance is the ability to whisper softly in her ear
then observe as she obediently removes her clothing.
Methodically..one piece at a time.
Watching as she kneels before you offering
her entire self to you. Willingly, without hesitation or reservation.
She will show you her most vulnerable self without
embarrassment or shame. You will know that nothing
makes her happier than making you happy"

True Dominance   (via sexual-feelings)

(Source: cumalloverme-baby, via tristyntothesea)

sh4nked:

omg
pantography:

gloomist:

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.
This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.
But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.
Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.
That’s what love is. Attention to detail.
And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.
But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time. She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.
But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:
One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.
And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.

this is truly sensational


Favourite post

"Fall asleep, my dear.

  For it is safe once again.

  I will still be here,

  when the sun comes up

  to tell you of the smile 

  that endured 

  from sunset to sunrise.”

-bm?


Stacked ©
"Go all the way with it. Do not back off. For once, go all the goddamn way with what matters."
Ernest Hemingway (via likeafieldmouse)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via optimus-prime)

k9chronicles:

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