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davonkommen ist kein versprechen

aunties new house. 
I made some jam

I am your secret life, whether you admit it or not. I am the girl you chat with when your real girl is busy with her art, with the rest of her life. I am the girl you call when you want to talk about something and she’s already asleep. I am the girl you get to share your stories of misadventures with, because your real girl might judge if you tell her everything. I am the girl you hang out with when she has to work far away. I am the girl with whom you text the most random things, because she just won’t understand. I am the girl you text dirty stuff with when she’s not around and you need your fix.

- Jens Baldeo 

My nights are for over-thinking; my days are for over-sleeping. — Unknown  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: onlinecounsellingcollege, via thatkindofwoman)

I want to be around people that do things. I don’t want to be around people anymore that judge or talk about what people do. I want to be around people that dream and support and do things. — Amy Poehler  (via awelltraveledwoman)

(Source: psych-facts, via am-clark)

In Turkey, tea is shared in the same way as a handshake in the United States; when you meet someone, whether for the thousandth time or a first time, you have a glass together. Tea in Turkey isn’t just a drink. It’s a ritual deeply ingrained into the fabric of day-to-day social life. Because of this, the way tea is brewed in Turkey is very different from the way it is done in the United States.

[…]

From a design perspective, it’s hard not to admire the Turkish teakettle. Distilled to the essence of its function, the çaydanlık solves many problems at once.

— A design ode to Turkish tea. Compare and contrast with George Orwell’s 11 golden rules for brewing the perfect (British) cup of tea. (via explore-blog)

(Source: explore-blog, via purpleishboots)

Summer. Summer is my time to grow, to be adventurous, to sneak out of my granny’s at night and meet with friends. The time to get drunk on endless beer and have hundreds of unladylike toilet breaks. The time to chill in the car at the highest mountain in the city and cry your soul out at midnight, when the sea is tranquil and the city lights shut down. It’s the time of short-timed but awfully amazing friendships, culinary cuisine and chilling at the beach or at our pool, watching my dog bark and fight the waves until he is all wet and sandy. It’s family reunion and getting to know them better as a person. Sharing their stories. Summer- where everyday is Dominos day. Short trips to the big city - my city, staying at friends. Getting lost within the billions of people, getting to know some of them, having strange dates with that boy. Anyway, moving on. Museums by day and partying at night. Sleeping in - no worries about work and learning. Breakfast at KFC, later shop ‘til I drop. Cuddling with street cats. Going on Jazz concerts, drinking wine - feeling oh so avant-garde. Going to bars and secret parties. Spending time on the couch watching hilariously stupid sit-coms and films. Telling each other horror stories, and then having to sleep alone - shitting myself ‘cause I’m really scared! Flying back to the all white half-island. Talking to my granny about her youth, complimenting on her beauty. Being pround of her. Secretly being her favorite grandchild. Flying back to the city. Weekend trips to the islands. Happy Birthday. I’m getting older and older. Growing into my skin. Summer. 

We only obsess over relationships that feel unfinished. — Carrie Bradshaw (via whatwouldcarriesay)

(via cassius-blue)