under the boardwalk

in life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate.

[girlsjustflying]

betty + august + cardigan = the teenage love triangle

[the-sunflower-one]

Yellow blog

[goodreadss]

There are painters who transform the sun to a yellow spot, but there are others who with the help of their art and their intelligence, transform a yellow spot into sun.

Pablo Picasso (via goodreadss)

[aznaudrey]

keep floatin’

[sassafranski]

Coast Hwy

[gotasdemar]

[surfareis]

[surfareis]

[disneyfeverdaily]

Who are you?

[worldwarxp]

“If something can corrupt you, you’re corrupted already.” - Bob Marley

[soldohawai]

[zoiodlula]

[wnq-writers]

What’s it like to be lonely And it’s almost like suffocating, except the air has turned to fire and the burning feeling of emptiness billows your lungs like smoke filling an empty room. Everything is overwhelming and you can’t not breathe, but you can’t breathe when you breathe - if that even makes any sense. It’s being surrounded by people who promise you that you’re filled with so much love and so much life ( so much that you could light up a room), but still always having cracks in your chest. Cracks that have run themselves so deep that they’re practically breaking through your spine. And you constantly remind yourself that one day everything will feel so good that you’ll forget the bad days ever existed; that you’ll forget about the fire that once coated your lungs with soot and so much light will pour into the cracks until your heart beats strong and your spine stands firm. That one day nothing will remain of these promise except complete fulfillment. But, until that day - you can’t turn the air back to air, you can’t see the light, and you certainly can’t fill the cracks. That’s what it’s like to be lonely.

Empty spaces (via wnq-writers)

[fatimaisbored]

[bahamasouth-deactivated20200131]

[xxaxels]

[surfareis]