askerenjaegerisfuckingawesome:

anartisticanomaly:

phantomcat94:

meefling:

You Aren’t Boring I Just Suck At Conversations I’m Sorry: a novel by me

I’m Not Ignoring You I Just Don’t Know What To Say: a sequel by me

I Feel Like I have Nothing Interesting To Say So I Don’t Say Anything At All And I’m Really Sorry Don’t Stop Talking To Me: the trilogy.

I feel like what I say is boring you and now I feel unwanted because you aren’t replying at all.

-a responsive essay.

(via mysteriouswritergirl)




soundlyawake:

pitaya bowl with strawberry hemp granola, raspberries, cacao nibs, fantasies, orgasms, and dreams (at The Harvest Bar)

soundlyawake:

pitaya bowl with strawberry hemp granola, raspberries, cacao nibs, fantasies, orgasms, and dreams (at The Harvest Bar)


1. Your skin may never be perfect, and that’s okay.

2. Life is too short not to have the underwear, the coffee, and the haircut you want.

3. Everyone (including your family, your coworkers, and your best friend) will talk about you behind your back, and you’ll talk about them too. It doesn’t mean you don’t love each other.

4. It’s okay to spend money on things that make you happy.

5. Sometimes without fault or reason, relationships deteriorate. It will happen when you’re six, it will happen when you’re sixty. That’s life.

Five things I am trying very hard to accept.  (via adrians)

(via lifeofapersistor)



edwardspoonhands:

ossborn:

Me and my mom made a TFIOS birthday cake. The birthday girl died of happiness. 

whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa….

(via ihategeese)


You wrecked me and
I apologized.

Never again. (via bridgetoteranarnia)

OMG the accuracy

(via highimcaro)

(via meghantonjes)




A year ago we stayed up till 3 am talking
And today I don’t know how to even say hey



EDIT - not mine (source)

EDIT - not mine (source)

(via lifeofapersistor)


It’s killing me how instead of holding your hand, I’m gripping pens writing about the day you let go of mine.
shouldn’t miss you this much but i do (via the-psycho-cutie)

(via the-writing-writer-wrote)