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“faster,” i moaned. “why won’t this page load faster?”

(Source: nygaards, via euphoricalminds)

australiansanta:

why do babies need twice as much sleep as us like they literally do nothing all day shouldn’t it be the other way around fuck babies

(via yourface0ffendsme)

sternfather:

i want to be slutty but only with one person u feel me

(Source: nasturbate, via chanelondon)

broccloi:

are you staring at me because you’re checking me out or are you staring at me because i’m ugly

(via yourface0ffendsme)

thenextpandatologist:


dymondior:

Lmaoo

hahaha
ofcolor-fashion:

Anais Mali.
lvmrsmn:

Alexis Ren by Bryant Eslava

matthewjhelders:

"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??????

(Source: miniaturewhiski, via smiles-dreams-prayers)

helpfvl:

praying that i will be hot this year

(via verste-hen)

Just because you miss someone, it doesn’t mean you should go back to them. Sometimes you have to just keep missing them until you wake up one morning and realise that you don’t anymore.

-(via beautyinphotography)

(Source: these-greatexpectations, via verste-hen)

Date yourself. Take yourself out to eat. Don’t share your popcorn at the movies with anyone. Stroll around an art museum alone. Fall in love with canvases. Fall in love with yourself.

-(via psych-facts)

Maybe one day we’ll meet again when we’re different people.

Maybe then we’ll be better for each other.

-Unknown  (via sanamarama)

(Source: psych-facts, via gunsounds)

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 she 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.

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

(Source: extrasad, via smiles-dreams-prayers)

chanel-and-louboutins:

✝