[fuglyselfie]

“how would your friends describe you?”

[topherchris]

[fyeahmovies]

The Shining (1980) dir. Stanley Kubrick

[dustandhopes]

if i can’t raise a dog with you, you ain’t the one

[e-jotja-deactivated20200224]

let me cry for 2 minutes real quick, I’ll be a new bitch on the 3rd minute

[dankmemesreasonforliving]

[untexting]

Does anyone else get those random rushes of motivation like, “I’m gonna be so fucking successful dammit, watch me”

[brutol]

best 20 minutes of the year

[metaphern]

[purplebuddhaproject]

“It’s all about falling in love with yourself and sharing that love with someone who appreciates you, rather than looking for love to compensate for a self love deficit.”

— Eartha Kitt (via purplebuddhaquotes)

[atraversso]

Puppy - Hello_shiba

[blendinblandin-archive]

I justify my impulses by the fact I’m going to be dead one day and none of it truly matters in the grand scheme of things

[blendinblandin-archive]

it’s that “treat yo self” nihilism

[ommanyte]

Me, a humble draugr, quietly minding my own business in my barrow tomb, doing my daily chores (lighting the candles, taking the frostbite spider for a walk, making the large swinging axes swing in the corridor of large swinging axes), having a sleepover with the lads in the deathlord’s chamber

YOU, loud, alive, obnoxious, barging into our tomb eating an entire wheel of cheese, making a mess, plundering my life savings from my burial urn, setting fire to frosty (the frostbite spider), re-killing me and the lads, WAKING the deathlord

[peachy-faery]

you are my peach, you are my plum

[sarriane]

youre angle or youre devil

[kiwi]

shout out to my incoherent bitches!! shout out to all the babes out there who dont make no fuckin sense!!!

[theslaysdays]

Drew Barrymore in 90′s

[kfk3k]

Wild saturday night. Bookings every week. Email [email protected]

[donna-marieriley-deactivated202]

how to love your depressed lover.

Last night I thought I kissed the loneliness from out your belly button. I thought I did, but later you sat up, all bones and restless hands, and told me  there is a knot in your body that I cannot undo.

I never know what to say to these things. “It’s okay.” “Come back to bed.” “Please don’t go away again.”

Sometimes you are gone for days at a time and it is all I can do not to call the police, file a missing person’s report, even though you are right there, still sleeping next to me in bed. But your eyes are like an empty house in winter: lights left on to scare away intruders.

Except in this case I am the intruder and you are already locked up so tight that no one could possibly jimmy their way in.

Last night I thought I gave you a reason not to be so sad when I held your body like a high note and we both trembled from the effort.

Some people, though, are sad against all reason, all sensibility, all love. I know better now. I know what to say to the things you admit to me in the dark, all bones and restless hands. 

“It’s okay.” “You can stay in bed.” “Please come back to me again.”