Live fast die young bad cats do it well
i remember one time this dude sent me a shirtless pic with the caption “lol maybe u can save this for a rainy day ;)”
and i was like “for what? to keep me dry? because that’s what it’s doing right now”
So you have chosen aloneness. You have chosen the security and the relative freedom of solitude, because there is no risk involved. You can stay up every night and watch your TV shows and eat ice cream out of the box and scroll through your Tumblr and never let your brain sit still, not even for a moment. You can fill your days up with books and coffees and trips to the store where you forget what you wanted the second you walk in the automatic sliding door. You can do so many little, pointless things throughout the day that all you can think of is how badly you want to sleep, how heavy your whole body is, how much your feet hurt. You can wear yourself out again and again on the pavement, and you do, and it feels good.
No one will ever bridge that gap and point to your stomach or your hair or your eyes in the mirror and magically make you see the wonderful things about getting to be next to you. And maybe that’s it, after all, this fear that no one will ever truly feel about you the way you want to be felt about. Maybe what you want is someone to make you love yourself, to put sense into all that positive rhetoric, to make it so the aloneness of TV and blasting music in your ears at all times isn’t the most happy place you can think of. Maybe you want someone who makes you so sure of how wonderful things are that you cannot help but to tell them your feelings first, even at the risk of being humiliated. Because you will know that, when you’re telling them you love them, what you’re really saying is “I love who I become when I am with you.
But they are there for a reason. Only when we have overcome them will we understand why they were there.
|—||Paulo Coelho, The Fifth Mountain (via feellng)|
|—||Hunter S. Thompson (via psychedelic-orgasm)|
|—||most sober thing a drunk person could ever say to you (via n-nni)|
Your lips on mine.
Your hands around my waist.
My lips on your neck.
My hands running through your hair.
I want you.
In my bed.
Right next to me.
Holding me tight.
Talking about anything.
Gentle kisses in between thoughts.
Our tired eyes holding contact.
Slowly falling asleep.
|—||Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (via splitterherzen)|
THIS IS MY FAVORITE VINE
WHAT THE FUCK KINDA DRUGS ARE PEOPLE DOING
This speaks to me in a way that I can’t describe
|—||Emile Hirsch (via fearlessknightsandfairytales)|
Gautama Buddha(via feellng)
calling me ugly isn’t even an insult because i know already