We all came here to die

You wonder what he’s thinking when he shivers like that. What can you tell me, what could you possibly tell me? Sure, it’s good to feel things, and if it hurts, we’re doing it to ourselves, or so the saying goes, but there should be a different music here. There should be just one safe place in the world, I mean this world. People get hurt here. People fall down and stay down and I don’t like the way the song goes. You, the moon. You, the road. You, the little flowers by the side of the road. You keep singing along to that song I hate. Stop singing.

[aimeegbbs]

MAEVE WILEY in SEX EDUCATION (2019-)

[dylanholyhellobrien]

[dylanholyhellobrien]

[dysfunctionalasshole-rp]

[allthexmuses]

“I love you, Billie. Do you know how rare an warming it is to feel this way for someone and knowing the other person feels the same way about you? What are the chances? We’ve both been through so much shit. All our lives. And I dont want to let go of the only thing that keep me whole and make me smile when the only thing I wanna do is disappear. I am not ready to let the good things I have in my life just… go.”

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

People like me love only ghosts.

Friedrich Nietzsche, from a letter to Franz Overbeck 

[qvotable]

I needed to be somewhere different. Maybe I needed to be someone different, too.

Heather Davis // The Clearing (via qvotable)

[extramadness]

[iheartlost]

[caossource]

[dylanholyhellobrien]

[dylanholyhellobrien]

[allthexmuses]

        𝘏𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬; 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘺𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘳? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯?                𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴. 𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥; 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.       𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸; 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥.     𝘐𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

[stilesedit]

[dylanholyhellobrien]

[stilesedit]

[skywalkerbc]

[commander-anya]

[chandlebing]