Documentation 2015: Here is my journey on this road to self love.
(Source: florapoppies, via itsxnylorac)
you know what i really want? a modern dudebro vampire. just a typical obnoxious straight boy in a neon tank top and cargo shorts who also happens to be a creature of the night.
“okay, dude, i’m only feeding on you ‘cause i’m starving and there aren’t any hot girls around. no homo.” “wait, you’re gonna suck my blood?” “no, i’m gonna drink your blood. i don’t suck, that’s gay. don’t make this weird, bro”
“ah, i see you’re staring pensively out the window, chad. ruminating on the curse of your newfound immortality?” “nah man, it’s just… i got, like, some flecks of blood on my adidas while i was feeding and they haven’t come out…”
“we do not drink… wine.” “okay but is beer cool? and can we still smoke weed?”
he joins a 24-hour gym because being undead and allergic to sunlight is no excuse for skipping leg day. tragic music swells as he looks over his “sun’s out guns out” tanks (he has seven of them). his coven is a fraternity. someone make this happen
(Source: astrailhads, via itsxnylorac)
With the death toll now at now estimated at over 2,100, according to ABC, the 7.9-magnitude earthquake that hit Nepal on Saturday is one of the worst natural disasters in recent memory. With countless lives lost and major archaeological and historical sites irreparably damaged, the devastation in Kathmandu and elsewhere is truly awful. These tragic photos show the true level of loss.
(Source: mic.com, via intensional)
to people who dont have a mental illness: ???????????????????????? how???????????? how do you do that
(via devouringhuntress-blog)
| step one: | buy seeds |
| step two: | grow flowers |
| step three: | provide safe home for bees |
| step four: | kiss a cute girl |
| step five: | rule the world |
I don’t trust anyone who calls adult men “men”, but calls adult women “girls”.
I don’t trust anyone who calls human men “men”, but calls human women “females”.
(Source: thatdiabolicalfeminist, via devouringhuntress-blog)
And maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much, but maybe this thing was a masterpiece til you tore it all up. You call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest. I’m a crumpled up piece of paper lying here cause I remember it all too well.
Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it. I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it. After plaid shirt days and nights when you called me your own. Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone.