Ghost

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cumberbangers:

pleatedjeans:

via

I have found my new favorite post, and this be it.

I hate going to sleep with you on my mind and not in my bed.

Buryme-inthesky (via suspend)

(Source: buryme-inthesky)

mcstump:

why do men romanticize letting a girl’s hair down like undoing her ponytail or something before sex like do u realize that if you pull out my elastic you’re not getting soft waves cascading around my face you’re getting knotted pieces of straw greased with hairspray and overrun with hidden bobby pins u don’t want this

I don’t like sleep. I like glassy, red-tinted, half-shut, blurry visioned “fuck me” eyes. I don’t want to have sex just because it’s nine thirty on a friday night and your parents are out for dinner. I want that look of acceptance from your mother when you say we’ll go out to eat with them and that look of satisfaction from you when you keep your hand on my thigh under the restaurant table all evening. I don’t like sleep. I don’t like laying in bed, just allowing the present to become the past like it meant nothing after it’s happened. I like staying up too late on the good days, and even more on the bad days, thinking that maybe things will get better the longer I’m up - knowing they won’t, but still hoping they might. I like the vulgarity of late nights. Like all the bad decisions come out with the moon, or when the music from the bar across the street gets louder to cover the fact that everybody’s breathing just got a whole lot heavier. I don’t like sleep because I can’t stop thinking that if I didn’t sleep, I could stare at the night sky long enough over time to finally see a star die. People ask me why I look tired all the time. And there’s no way to say that I stayed up all night to count every star to try to sum up even a quarter of a fraction of how I feel for you. So I just say I had nightmares again. And I don’t think I’m entirely wrong. No, I don’t like sleep. I don’t like feeling like I’m missing chunks of my life, like I’m blacking out and not even with a drunk story to tell about it. I don’t like knowing that life fast forwards for me while it’s crawling for you. Because I keep trying to get on my hands and knees to keep up but it doesn’t seem to be working. No, I don’t like sleeping. Not alone, and not here. So maybe not ever.

Entirely Wrong by k.p.k

(via towritepoems)

urulokid:

freddyskrueger:

toocooltobehipster:

3 year old death grip!

omfg

iM LAUGHING SO HARD BC THE BROTHER IS STARING AT HER LIKE “OMFG” AND SHES STANIDNG BACK THERE HOLDING HER HANDS LIKE “i never knew what i was capable of, my powers are here”

horseskeepmesane:

She literally got a drink of water and then walked over to my boots and spit the water in them.

hancljob:

i thought perez hilton was paris hiltons damaged and slightly less famous brother 

oh my god who fucking cares

anyone who’s been on this site longer than 5 minutes (via psychosematic)
proudlyinsane:

complete panic in one screenshot

proudlyinsane:

complete panic in one screenshot

notafraidofstopping876:

broadwayismagic:

nxt-2-nrml:

How does being a fan of Broadway even work for people who don’t live in New York? like, are you guys ok?

No. No we’re not.

image

leela-summers:

Let’s Talk About Sex - Tumblr Edition Part 4

Part 1: x
Part 2: x
Part 3: x

madehimsaycomfychairs:

thebeauty-isa-beast:

curvellas:

my fall look today is winged eyeliner, plum lipstick, and a look on my face like i’m fucking your boyfriend and can’t wait for you to find out.

My fall look is simple liner with bold lashes, burgundy lipstick, a gleam in my  eyes that let’s men know that I’ll suck their dick, their money out of their bank accounts, and the souls right out of their bodies.

this is my favorite post on tumblr currently

glowcloud:

i love the Women Against Feminism that are like “I dont need feminism because i can admit i need my husband to open a jar for me and thats ok!” cause listen 1. get a towel 2. get the towel damp 3. put it on the lid and twist. BAM now men are completely useless. you, too, can open a jar. time to get a divorce

They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.

Tom Bodett (via observando)

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