missbrostrider:

This fucking photo ruined my life whenever I think about it I burst out laughing I have gotten so many detentions cause of this fucking cat duckface monster

missbrostrider:

This fucking photo ruined my life whenever I think about it I burst out laughing I have gotten so many detentions cause of this fucking cat duckface monster

(via stories-are-such-wild-creatures)


Baby I'm Yours
Arctic Monkeys
Leave Before The Lights Come On

profpic:

Baby I’m Yours // Arctic Monkeys

(via fistest)



robbonp:

commanderabutt:

fagsindubai:

Friendly reminder  ԅ(≖‿≖ԅ) that if you don’t sleep with someone for the sole reason that they’re HIV positive then you ARE being discriminatory towards a human being with a disease and you’re scum of the earth 。◕‿◕。 It’s basically as bad as saying you couldn’t love somebody with cancer. Respect people’s feelings. (◕‿◕✿)

image

this website is fucking benthic

(via slightlyinappropriate)


It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

(via whorville)





Every time you subtract negative from your life, you make room for more positive.