j

Find me now. Before someone else does.

[priveting]

Photographer: Rick S. Manyueyuan National Park, Taiwan DO NOT REMOVE THE CREDITS. THANK YOU. ♥

[defiantely-deactivated20181027]

Rome by Carrie WishWishWish on Flickr.

[priveting]

Photographer: Vic Whitehall, London, England ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛs. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ. ♥

[priveting]

Photographer: J. Carroza G  i  r  o  n  a    ,   S  p  a  i  n ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛs. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ. ♥

[childgirl]

Tenía que compartir esto en @WeHeartIt

[moviequotiq]

Her, 2014

[soracities]

But happiness, for me, is a strange, tumultuous feeling, composed of endless evasions, always in danger of collapse.

Mihail Sebastian, For Two Thousand Years (trans. Philip Ó Ceallaigh)

[velvetmysoul]

[grayskymorning]

[lonelywoodland]

Isabelle Bertolini

[lazyangels-network]

[niqhtblissinq]

have a lovely day babes! :) x

[caahfe]

caahfe // lazyangels // banners

[rhossie]

You are beautiful and you deserve the best.

[kitty-n-classe]

[ingelnook]

. by the mirror closes the universe on Flickr.

[turbinis]

Edinburgh by annalistic on Flickr.

[aperiodofsoftness]

[mysteriouz]

xx

[ghlorify-deactivated20181102]

Want a blog rate? Follow me on Instagram! Like some of my photos and I’ll throw in a screenie to over 25k+ dashes

[sluffed]

When will these fragments come together?  I feel like they never will so it’s better to just hope to be ground down enough that I can finally dissolve rather than keep hoping that one day all the pieces will fit together to create the whole person that I’ve always faked being.  You can ask me what I like, you can ask me what has happened to me, you can ask me about my dreams and my nightmares and the books I read and the way I like my coffee.  But I don’t think anyone will ever know me.  No matter how many bits and pieces of me they manage to scrounge up and arrange together to look like someone they could love.  I will always be a sham, I will always be the paper cut-out of a girl you could love.  I am in so many pieces that I don’t even know what is a part of me anymore.  I am a vessel, an untinctured semblance of a person who lets other people fill her up until they see what they want and they think I am placed on this earth for them and them alone.  Sometimes I cannot look in the mirror for too long or I feel gravity of reality leave and I scare myself because I am not real.  I am unmoored passions, jokes with no punchline that exist only in my head, love that no one else can see, the secret two way mirror.  

I want to cut myself open and watch all the love and want and desire and hope, that stupid hope that clings on despite all I do to kill it, I want to watch all of that beautiful, disgusting danger seep out of me.  I don’t want to want things to come together because I don’t want to hurt so much when they fall apart.  Everything turns to dust, but why has it taken so long for me to.

[bwboysgallery-deactivated202007]

Oscar Isaac by Brigitte Lacombe