blogging is so harddddddd

ya boi can’t even rant anymore and that’s the purest form of blogging!!!!

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I don’t want to go in the fire, I just want to stay in my home.

Going to work fills me with an encompassing sense of doom.

(Source: feelingwithsounds, via gilgunderson)

231 plays

We said we’d keep in touch. But touch is not something you can keep. As soon as it’s gone, it’s gone. We should have said we’d keep in words, because they are all we can string between us—words on a telephone line, words appearing on a screen.
David Levithan (via mrvonnegut)

(Source: commongrnd, via mrvonnegut)

things i’m looking forward to:

  • friday because i get to go home for the weekend (which means free haircut and $$$ yassss)
  • saturday because i get to see home friends
  • next week because last full week of classes
  • two weeks because my birthday ayy turn up turn up (jk i have two finals on my bday)
  • summer because no allergies and stress and beach and the impossible tanning

i dunno, i’m just ready for this semester to be over. it’s been my hardest one yet :(

make love to me..

make love to me..


I’ve been stuck on Chance for a long time now, so here’s a good one.

(via nujanes)

212 plays

update on my life:

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These woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

I had his heart, but I broke it every time.

(Source: thetopofthecity, via fellapputio)

37,379 plays

One day, by luck or by fate you will find that the loveless days you spent eternity weeping over will be gone, and you will find that your heart will soon be on its way to repair, patching up the scrapes and scratches that covered the way it was— when life was abundant and love was a teasing battle. And when you do, I hope you realize how necessary everything was. The regret, the anguish— all of it. You needed it to happen. You can’t understand happiness without the sadness that accompanies it. They are bound together like day and night, or work and rest, cradling each other like the moon, and the earth. 

But it’s not to say we are completely bound to eternal grief. We are still tied together, whether with ropes and knots or by a single thread. We can’t cut the ties if we wanted to but we still try to thin them out, maybe just until they are just slim sheets of infinity.

So, quit moping. Wipe your eyes, and try to see it clearer now. The somber days will still come, if not in minutes then maybe months. How horrible it can be, is all up to you. As long as your heart beats, as long as your legs can run or your fingers can type you will always be here, alive—living. The nights will still come and the sun will still shine and the planets will still rotate.

And look, so will you.

For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse.

So collapse.
This is not your destruction.

This is your birth.


You’re a writer, right?
So what do you do
You remember
You understand
You empathize
You find love in the crevices of ignorance and fear
Where others are blinded too.
Stop being worried.
Listen to your own voice.
These poems are for remembering yourself,
An articulation you searched
A breath that you fought for.
These poems are for loving yourself the way no one else could.
Nobody loves you more than yourself.
Nobody knows you like your own tongue and your own lips.
Nervousness is good.
Remember the time someone kissed the words, “Anxiety is good for you,” on your cheek and validated what you’ve tried so hard to overcome.

(Source: neetboss, via sleepinsolitude)

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