January 2010
you were playing the drums, and i sat there watching you, my heart beating the same as the beat you were playing. and now you’re playing with my hair and its making me smile. you smell so good. its bringing back so many memories.
There is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide...
– American Psycho, Bret Easton Ellis (via nostalgicdreams)
to my baby.
14524.) I am weak.
(via blogsecret)
My hands are always cold,
thisbruisedheart:
and yours are always warm. But I find it really cute how you still love holding my hand even if that means I get to steal all your warmth. I swear bb, it’s the cute little things.
Another cup of coffee. Another cigarette. This...
thingsgohazy:
(via luxembourg)
pipahaspowas:
I just sat in the shower for two hours, crying. I needed that.
I feel so much better now.
mmm, i love doing that.
Depression is such a cruel punishment. There are no fevers, no rashes, no blood...
– Martha Manning, Undercurrents (via yerawizardharry) (via apassingfeeling)
So there's this woman,
fuckyeahbrighteyes:
bribrilazyface:
and she was on an airplane and she’s flying to meet her fiance, sailing high above the, the largest ocean on planet Earth, and she was seated next to this man who, you know, she had tried to start conversations, and, only really the only thing she’d heard him say was just to order his, his Bloody Mary, and… and she’s sitting there, and she’s reading this...