One. Do not promise when youâre happy. Two. When you are angry, do not respond. Three. Do not decide when youâre sad.
(via hemped)

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Cosmic Funnies
Not today Justin
todays bird
RMH
ojovivo

Love Begins
wallacepolsom
YOU ARE THE REASON

titsay
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
sheepfilms
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

â

JVL

@theartofmadeline

Product Placement
styofa doing anything

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@thatfiish
One. Do not promise when youâre happy. Two. When you are angry, do not respond. Three. Do not decide when youâre sad.
(via hemped)
r u a cigarette bc u got a hot butt
it probably seems like i cry over stupid shit but tbh i usually end up crying because iâve stored up all of my upset feelings from multiple things rather than express them and then the littlest thing sets me off like spilling my drink may not be that big of a deal but when iâve stored up that many negative emotions it feels like i busted a hole in the hoover dam
vintage/nature
Letâs âcuddleâ and when I say cuddle I mean aggressively makeout and grab me everywhere
oh wow he actually looks thirteen
THANK YOU GOD BLESS
PRECIOUS BABBY.
my body isnt a temple my body is a castle with a moat and crocodiles and a dragon who will set you on fire if you touch me
all photos copyright Full Tilt Photography.
In 2006 we made this little burger meal for a competition on Craftster.org. It got quite a bit of online traffic at the time. Couldnât find the links, so I re-edited and uploaded these for Parisa. Me and Mr L put it together, and all the food was edible: baby onion, american cheese, baby gherkin, homemade bun, handcut fries. I made the tray and the drink out of polymer clay and printed up the Craftster branding.Â
oh my god
"wwhatâs a wway to screww my life ovver"
You couldâŚÂ kiss me. âAll seductively <3
I feel like thatâll havve me ripping out my tongue and hurling onto the cement than anything.
;3; Wway to toy wwith my heart.. bully.Â
Let me wwind it up and wwatch it crumble.
You can wwind it up, but it wwont crumble.â itâs like a jack in the box, It wwill just go back into itâs dark casket and wwait for someone to play wwith it again
Fun thing about a jack in the box, they eventually break. After so much time, so much effort of winding those wheels, those springs will eventually fall out of place. They will scramble, collide, grind, until those turning gears no longer turn, and you're left with a box with no creature that comes out to play. You're left with a broken object that means nothing
   a mere broken toy
       that only takes up                            s p a c e.
Seeing Stars. | Terminallycelestial
"Canât say Iâve never been real lost none" he seems annoyed at you. Perhaps you should take your leave, youâve never really been one for premature exits however. Still, your eyes slide up him-past him-into the darkness at his back. A thoughtful motion, you canât say you do anything more than that for now, not until youâve processed what you plan on doing.
âEridan. Yeah, okay broâ you shift, put your weight on your heels, itâs not awkward so much as tentative, thoughtful, sliding your hands into your pockets.
âJust up and gettinâ my walk on yanno? Nightâs all homey and shit to a motherfucker, be all up and lookinâ at the sky, gettinâ my wonder on about why I canât just fall right up in that wicked bitch, since there ainât really no up and down none ya feel?â you pause, debating whether anything youâve said makes sense to anyone besides yourself, in the end rolling your shoulders in a shrug that speaks volumes about how little it truly matters.
A pause. Hesitation, like a hunting animal just before the pounce.
âYou hurtinâ friend?â you inquire, your weight settling once more. Head tilting gently. âDonât look like youâre feelinâ much goodâŚâ thereâs this distant sort of concern you feel for most things. Itâs new of course, you didnât always care, didnât for the longest time but now the feeling is all pervasive, if still a dull throb, the far away ache of an old wound.
âWouldnât wanna leave a motherfucker here if heâs sick or hurt ân shitâ
    Eridan stared at the male, watching the soft rolls on his heels, the confusion, the blankness, the quirkiness of the male's face. He arched a brow at the male's seemingly nonsense muttering, but he only nodded to the male's shrug. He only understood partly of that, eyes training up to stare at the sky above them, the dark abyss. He almost seemed startled when the male asked him about the sickness, the tiredness.
"..Just tired, my brother."Â
     Eridan rubbed his face again, hands sliding down, over his own gills. They seemed to not like the cold air, and his lungs ached dully. He sighed softly, pulling up his scarf, wrapping it around himself a few more times in compensation.Â
"Just overly tired."
Tattoo by Alexandra BawnÂ
@alexbawntattoo