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hkirkh:

godotal:

broken body

"I was born with glass bones and paper skin. Every morning I break my legs, and every afternoon I break my arms. At night, I lie awake in agony until my heart attacks put me to sleep."
drunkblogging:

`gnarly:

squided:

diamoncls:

yourwaifu:

thala55o:

mac and cheese

what?

mac and cheese

That’s an egg

Thats an ipad

thats an eggpad

stop-chicken-nugget-abuse:

nevvzealand:

happy birthday someone

I like reblog going this becaUSE WHAT IF YOU SAW THIS ON YOUR BIRTHDAY HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE

It’s not shaking, and crying, and screaming until your throat burns. It’s not tidal waves of emotions, quickly drowning you. It’s not blood running down your wrists, staining your flesh red. It’s not popping pills, and drinking whiskey. It’s laying in your bed at three in the morning, surrounded by darkness, and staring at the wall. It’s the heavy feeling that settles deep in your bones, the ache in the depths of your chest. It’s feeling guilty that you’ve stayed in bed all day—yet again—but not having the energy to get up. It’s wanting to do better, to be better, but not knowing how to anymore. Most of all, it’s the “out of place” feeling, as though you just don’t belong here anymore, and your time is up.
—he asked about my sadness (202/365) by (DS)
malglories:

i’m not even going to wait until october this year
the ghost jokes have begun
When someone says you and your girlfriend look like sisters

lezbeginshallwe:

and you’re both just like

image

demonpossesser:

gifak-net:

How not to pick up girls 

How to

scaryclara:

i began by saying “yo” sarcastically, now it’s how i start half of my sentences 

(Source: laheeys)