kaitrokowski:

Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.


I’m drowning here, and you’re describing the water

– graffiti on my school bathroom wall  (via clumsiest)

I don’t think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love.

– (via chuckhansen)
Being a high achiever then slipping into a non-functional depression

edrecoveryprobs:

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(x)


celestial-sexhair:

utsubyo-no-kogeki:

idontbelieveinusernames:

onwards-to-fantartica:

dreamofunconsciousness:

The last line “Row, Row, Row, Your Boat.”

“Life is but a dream.”

Really? That’s quite the existentialist mind-fuck to throw in at the end of a nursery rhyme.

I waited patiently for this post

WAIT. ITS NOT ‘LIFE’S A BUTTER DREAM??’

No it isn’t, how long have you thought that?

What the fuck is a butter dream


factota:

"i don’t support feminism because i don’t hate men"

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