(via mothershipmonster)
It’s in the music.
(via cinderellaash)
Let’s paint the town red. We’ll be on all the covers and all the stories. Then we’ll write our own. Let’s paint the town red. Baby get out of bed.
(via oxblood)
No more. No more. Not till next semester at least. Le sigh..
(via loveyourchaos)
Because I’m bored of being in the dark alone, amusing myself and thinking of you. You’re just another shadow in the dark, faceless. Nameless.
I’ve tried blindly searching the walls for the switch. No lights. No fights. No longing sights.
I am a golden God!
Almost. Almost a golden God.
Curiouser and curious
We all find ourselves a bumbling fool at some point in our lives. Here I am. It’s my turn. You left me puzzled and tripping over my own two feet. Charm doesn’t work because wit left together with reason. Life is all there’s left and maybe luck. But I never did have much of those. Dreams. Ah, wonderful dreams. How you disappoint the waking eye.
“ I flushed with anger and humiliation. No, no, no, I wanted to shout. We’re misunderstanding each other again! But it was impossible to clarify. Maybe you never stop feeling like an eight-year-old in front of your parents. You resolve to be your mature self, to react in this considered way rather than that elemental way, to breath evenly from the bottom of your stomach and to see your parents as equals, but within five minutes your intentions are blown to hell, and you’re babbling and screaming in rage like an angry child.
Hanif Kureishi
from the book, the Buddha of Suburbia.
(via papertissue)
Back then, where we are now, was somewhere downhill.
I want this cat, I would name him Chasworth.
I would name him Eugene Levy
