Bird Parts

I like everything because when I got home from work my boyfriend made me iced coffee with caramel Bailey’s and coffee ice cubes and chocolate sauce. And lobster with garlic-lemon butter. And blackberry mojitos. And now we are drunk and singing old punk songs in our bedroom. And dancing to Pixies’ songs. And I keep finding mint leaves in my hair. 

Call it being happy.
Call it being mine. 

You don’t have to get a job that makes others feel comfortable about what they perceive as your success. You don’t have to explain what you plan to do with your life. You don’t have to justify your education by demonstrating its financial rewards. You don’t have to maintain an impeccable credit score. Anyone who expects you to do any of those things has no sense of history or economics or science or the arts. You have to pay your own electric bill. You have to be kind. You have to give it all you got. You have to find people who love you truly and love them back with the same truth. But that’s all.

(Source: cupofchi, via juliet-echo-alpha)