January 2011
1 post
FYI
Your Tumblr is awesome. Just felt like letting you know. =]
December 2009
27 posts
I know what it’s like to want to die. How it hurts to smile. How you try...
– Susanna Kaysen, “Girl, Interrupted”
I've never needed somebody more than I need you...
Tell me you need me.
I need to know you need me.
For me to keep on breathing.
I need to know I am needed.
I need to know that I am real.
slap your keyboard and make it an acronym and then...
theindiehippie:
iatethesolarsystem:
burnbrighter:
whenthesungoesdown:
triphop:
-hollowwords:
mycrookedheart:
wwilliamm:
lbhl
Live by holding lighters.
vg
vagina grabber
ERO
ELEPHANTS RUV OREOS
LKBDFHGNFTYUHIJOKP LETS KILL BOB DYLAN FOR HE’S GOT NO FUCKING TALENT YET UGLY HIPPIES INTERESTINGLY JAM OUTRAGEOUSLY KILLING PUPPIES
omg alison i can’t breathe
VFQWGBTEO
...
It hurts me to know that my happiness hurts you.
But I’m so happy I’m oblivious.
And I wish it were you kissing me.
But I also wish he were still here, kissing me.
I need you both so much,
and yet the one who needs me the most doesn’t have me,
and the one who needs to get rid of me the most has me entirely.
.5 seconds.
In a mere half a second,
in the time it took for our lips to meet and retreat.
A peck between friends.
My heart raced,
my soul fluttered,
my entire being quivered.
It was the most beautiful .5 seconds of my life.
Dear diary, today I am proud of myself.
I stopped being a pussy and kissed him again.
Fuckk. I love the motherfucking rain.
I wish it were warm enough to just sit outside and smoke and think in the rain.
November 2009
141 posts
Going out to eat and get high with Tony now. Life is good. Talk to you later, bitches.
You can take your love away but don’t you ever leave me alone. Bound to ghosts, we’ve carried on.
I’ve got nothing to do today but smile.
– Simon and Garfunkel (via rememo) (via suzywire)
You’re making everyone pretend it’s not your fault.
Academia— Sia
Our strange little love song. I hear this song, and I think of you. I think of the way you smell. The feeling of your fingers between mine. The warmth of your breath against my hair. The gentle thudding of your heart against my ear. Our strange little love. A kindling in a sea.
Oh, Academia.
You can pick me up.
Your hot kiss in cold december.
And on the backs of her eyelids, she saw only his smile.
And she smiled in return.
I guess you could call it love.
No matter how blind the boy,
or how stupid the girl.
I have no more desire to use tumblr regularly.
Fuck you Tumblarity: 0.
Sad but sweet.
And so, so true.
I GOT A NEW PHONE, FUCKERS.
TEXT ME WITH WHO YOU ARE AND LETS BE FRANDZ.
My number is 215 813 5909. I bet you’re too pussy to talk to me. C:<
Fuuuck, I hate my parents. How they can look their own child in the eyes and not be able to tell that something is wrong. How can a mother see her bulimic daughter’s eyes only minutes after she’s thrown up and not feel it? How can she glance right past her slit wrists and not be able to even see?