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I think people would be happier if they admitted things more often. In a sense we are all prisoners of some memory, or fear, or disappointment—we are all defined by something we can’t change.
– Simon Van Booy, The Illusion of Separateness (via whyallcaps)

(via inbetweenfaultlines)





verybigpimpin:

*txts back 20 days later & picks up the conversation where we left off as if no time has passed and without an excuse*

(via naturalbornkiller-x)





You deserve someone who knows how to make things up to you after hurting you. Not someone who is very good with just the word, “sorry.”
– Unknown (via codyduong)

(Source: ohteenscanrelate, via invincibleflower)





I’m not upset that you lied to me, I’m upset that from now on I can’t believe you.
 Friedrich Nietzsche (via dissapolnted)

(Source: feellng, via dezemberlxft)





I just want someone who won’t get annoyed when I text them six times or in all caps. Someone I can go on long drives with and can sing along to the radio with. Someone I can eat pizza with at 2am and kiss at 6pm. Someone who chooses me everyday and never thinks twice about it.
– (via bl-ossomed)

(Source: jessielou24, via quoth--theraven)





A year ago we stayed up till 3 am talking
And today I don’t know how to even say hey

– Time flies (via e-kallas)

(Source: esssence, via lazovii)





If he cared, he would have made an effort.
– Things I tell myself at 3 am (via thefinest-blog)

(via life-aint-no-wonderland)





This morning I woke up and decided to tell the truth.
I am not okay, and I don’t think that any of us are,
and I don’t think that we need to apologize for it.
Friends call to make plans and I say yes,
instantly regretting it. If it’s not alcohol,
it’s getting high, it’s music so loud my bones hum.
It’s driving around and making promises with our pinkies
or throwing up on the side of the street or kissing
each other so violently that we’re swallowing hair,
wisdom teeth. It’s loneliness so deep in my stomach
it’s in my womb and kneecaps. I’m writing this because
I fucking want you to feel something. I want you to
sweat me out like a fever. Okay, okay, listen:
I want to be a new girl but it’s these old habits.
We’re all so warm and feeling and I can’t quite
get this taste out of my mouth. We fling love around
like we don’t expect to get it back. It feels like
only yesterday my mother was kissing my scrapes
and bruises. Only yesterday I was learning to tie my shoes,
snap my fingers, be trusted with the delicate task
of dressing myself. I don’t think it’s safe here anymore.
Empty out your chest and get ready to run.

Kristina Haynes, “May 2014” (via fleurishes)

(via peoplearewankers)