3q9 .New .adult .game 1 730 471 .girls .online
cherry valley forever
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tannertan36

Andulka
todays bird

PR's Tumblrdome
noise dept.

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oozey mess
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

Origami Around

Janaina Medeiros

JBB: An Artblog!
taylor price
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
Aqua Utopiaď˝ćľˇăŽĺşă§č¨ćśăç´Ąă
Game of Thrones Daily

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ

JVL

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@loveblazing
3q9 .New .adult .game 1 730 471 .girls .online
CAUSE EVERY TIME WE TOUCH I GET THIS FEELING
EVERY TIME WE KISS I SWEAR I COULD FLY
CANâT U FEEL MY HEART BEAT FAST, I WANT THIS TO LAST
NEED YOU BY MY SIDE
This is the closest gif that can really capture the utter chaotic energy that is released when people hear this song
If youâre my girl & want to you thru my phone you can have the password, Iâve got nothing to hide. Wanna stay in & cuddle and get Ya booty grabbed and rubbed on, Iâm here. Donât like it when other females try to get at me? Hey Iâll let them know I have you as my girlfriend. Iâll stay faithful to you as long as you stay faithful to me. Weâre in this shit together. You got me, I got you.
I wish my weight dropped as fast as my self-esteem lmao
(via schmerzzhaft)
@professoralpha *hides face*
Gonna reblog this every time it pops up on my dashboard.
This is cyclohexane at itâs triple point, a point of pressure and temperature at where a substance is simultaneously solid, liquid, and gas.
420%
I hope you find what youâre looking for in 2016
Dreaming awake. (via itcuddles)
I barely find anybody attractive. I barely feel an affection for anybody..but when I do..I fall so deep, so hard itâs ridiculous
Are you a teen? You will love this blog!
The Morning After I Killed Myself
The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.
I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.
The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.
The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.
The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighborsâ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.
The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.
The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.
The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldnât finish what I started.