It’s like drowning but you just won’t fucking die.
It’s like drowning but you just won’t fucking die.
We’re all born with scars. From the moment we open our eyes and look at the world we are wounded, and we all share that same mark.
if anyone wants me to explain what an ‘anticlimax’ is, i’ll show them this text post
WHY WOULD YOU PUT THIS ON MY DASHBOARD RIGHT NOW
NO NO NOT OKAY
i hate people who glorify winter there is nothing fun and cute about winter you fuckin wake up and ya piss is frozen in ya dick is that what you want you hot chocolate loving fuck
"what music do you like?" is such a stressful question like what do you want to know??? genres?? artists?? albums??? time periods?? 25 most played?? what i’m currently listening to??? what i listen to at different times of the day?? be more specific??????
hahahaha you came out of a vagina
Actually I came out of a belly button
African American doctors attempting to save the life of a Klu Klux Klan member:
This photo left me speechless, this is what respect is.
this is what grace is
I never scroll pass this photo.. This is humanity, a lot of people can learn from this picture.
why should i carry on living?
Birthdays. Setting fires. Holding hands. Making stew on cold nights. Mountain climbing. Sleep. First dates. Vacation. Spending the day in bed. Buying wedding rings. Exploring a forest. Playing peekaboo with a baby. Watching someone smile genuinely. Camping. Stargazing. Counting rings on a tree. Realizing that someone loves you. Returning that love. Getting drunk for the first time. Smell of old books. Looking through black & white photos. Learning your ancestors’ names. Laughter. Hot chocolate. The feeling of getting back up after falling down. First day of college. Last day of college. Acing a job interview. Screwing one up and realizing it’s not the end of the world. Collecting shells. Sunbathing. Listening to someone’s heartbeat. Sound of waves crashing against shore. Rain hitting a tin roof. Heartbreak that turns into heart-healing. Your own house. Decorating that house. Coming home to someone you love. Hearing the sound of their footsteps on the stairs. Honesty of fall leaves. Their colors. Fresh snowfall. Singing favorite songs off-key. Seeing love come into someone’s eyes. Watching your parents look at each other like the very first time. Sunrise. Sunset. The way fire burns into ash. Smell of a campire. Waking up with light spilling over the sheets. Breakfast in bed. Living long enough to watch wounds heal over. Change. Wilderness. Forgiveness. Change some more. More change. Spring. Flowers blooming, opening up like you can. Good memories. Learning how to forget bad ones. Warm feet in a cold bed. Sleeping with the only person you care about. Waking up to their mouth and arms. Smiles that reach all the way to the eyes. Letting go of balloons like dead weight. Floating in water on your back. Skydiving. Risk. Adventure. First C on a test. First A. Favorite teacher. First poem. Last poem. Holidays with family. Roadtrips. Changing the sheets. Your father’s gnarled hands when he grows old. Grandchildren. Children of your own. Their first day of college. Their graduation. Their wedding. Anniversaries. Making daisy chains. Smell of freshly-cut grass. Pride. Feeling good about yourself. Loving what’s in the mirror. Not being afraid anymore. No more heaviness. No more grief. Survival. Picking berries til your fingers are stained dark. Frost on windows. Holding someone without sex. Sex with love. The joy of swearing. Counting the years you’ve lived. Another candle on the birthday cake. Another mark of victory. That bellyache laugh that hurts all over. But hurts so good. Breath freezing in winter. Feeling that breath on your skin. Someone’s eyelashes blinking into your palm. Accomplishment. Self-worth. Love. Triumph. Sitting under willow trees without weeping. Apologies that get accepted. Understanding that comes from forgiveness. First fight. First makeup afterward. Less hurt. More good.
why do guys call girls “cunts” anyway though
why would you insult someone by referring to them as the only thing about them that actually matters to you
when I get mad at my boyfriend I don’t call him “salary”
the other day we were discussing dating and this one dude was like “I don’t see the big deal why can’t people just ask people out without all the fuss” and another guy was like “well you get nervous and you get butterflies in your stomach ya know” and the first dude looked the other dude straight in the eye and said “DIGEST THEM.”
I’ve been laughing for three years over the fact that in ye old England you could chose to have ‘trial by cake’ in which you ate a piece of cake and if you choked you were guilty and if you didn’t you were innocent, and the only time it was used the guy on trial fucking choked and was executed for it
[SMASHES DOWN YOUR DOOR]
so wHAT IF I CAN’T FORGET YOU
[KICKS THE WALL]
I’LL BURN YOUR NAME INTO MY THROAT I’LL BE THE FIRE THAT’LL CATCH YOU
[FALLS ONTO KNEES]
WHAT’S SO GOOD ABOUT PICKING UP THE PIECES
*lays down and whispers* what if i don’t even want to…
Black and white blog