There is always something left to love.– Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude (via seabois)
My Mind-bogglerations.: Observation →
shafishlyours: There was this round boy in class. He was the least bright and he was the least fun. He said things wrongly and he laughed at the wrong times. Some friends called him ‘Smelly’ and some called him ‘Crazy’. But when he cried, a few girls rushed to him to pat his head, earnestly saying ‘It’s Ok’….
sandysmind: How I eat my favorite topping of pizza