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I used to love magic tricks.

I don’t know if what we had would be considered magic. I mean, it looked and seemed too good to be true but then again, isn’t magic really just a play on the audience’s eyes and imagination?

The way the chemistry was crazier than lab class and we didn’t even need the flasks or mixing of chemicals to cause an explosion.

Touches burning and lingering longer than your fingertips on a hot stove and we didn’t even need the fire
Magical as in the way your lips didn’t have to touch mine to make my whole body tingle.

And kisses that sent shivers down my spine and ended up with me pushing you against the wall, aching to kiss you some more.

You chuckled and teased me but that only added onto my desire,
for every time you touched me it felt like a mural being completed, part by part and you didn’t even need paint; just the caressing of your hands.

I don’t know if you would call your fingers magical as they unraveled me like a cocoon coming undone and transforming into a butterfly, or was it a moth?

But I eventually got to your final act - disappearing.

One of the oldest tricks in the book.
Then I remember my father once telling me when I was turning six, the first time I watched a magic performance during a wedding. He said, “Magic is not real. Magic does not exist.”

So it hits me, and I realized what we had was not magic, merely an act
And you were the magician while I was the rabbit in the hat.

Ming D. LiuS. A., You Were (and still are) A Fucking Asshole. (via mingdliu)


I’ve recently decided to freeze myself to -273℃. My friends think I’ll die, but I’ll be 0K.






giving birth is essentially just like pooping except out a different hole

are your poops covered in blood and start screaming and crying

only after i eat mexican food



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