cursor by ofsquidgyandkellin!

hi c: welcome to my blog <3

likeatragedynoww:

likeatragedynoww:

its christmas eve and look whos on tumblr

all of us

easter and oh look at that

we’re all still here

(via omg-look-at-me)

heros-of-the-bluebox:

sluttyoliveoil:

cough

rough

though

through

why dont these words rhyme

but for some god forsaken reason pony and bologna do

(via gamsea-mackerel)

figurants:

some people were born today. hello babies welcome to the earth. you missed a bunch of stuff while you were busy not existing. jbiebs did some things you would not believe

(Source: gooqueen, via omg-look-at-me)

plasticbagvevo:

when you hear somebody talking about one of your interests

image

(via omg-look-at-me)

glasseskiwi:

5eva:

y’all act like public schools are the worst but i went to a private school for nine months and at one point the boys discovered if you spray your nipple with deodorant for fifteen seconds and flick it then it comes off so they all started doing it and my friend walked into the changing room and got hit in the eye by a flying nipple

HORRIFIED SCREAMS

#I THINK THEY MEANT THE DEODORANT COMES OFF IN A NIPPLE SHAPE NOT THE ACTUAL NIPPLE

LESS HORRIFIED SCREAMS

(Source: uglygirlsassociation, via burnmylungs-cursemyeyes)

oreosvevo:

when you get caught taking food without permission

image

(via phobias)

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

(via love--is-forever)

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

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