why dont these words rhyme
but for some god forsaken reason pony and bologna do
If you decide to walk around in underwear and an open flannel you can see yourself straight into my bed.
She is not “my girl.”
She belongs to herself. And I am blessed, for with all her freedom, she still comes back to me, moment-to-moment, day-by-day, and night-by-night.
How much more blessed can I be?"
- Avraham Chaim, Thoughts after The Alchemist (via shayeofodile)