officialunitedstates:

introverts:  sit quietly in corner reading good book and drinking tea

extroverts:  throw water balloons at old man, sing too loudly, eat all the jello

(via nightlockswing)

(via of-summer)

(via of-summer)

Despite what you’ve read, your sadness is not beautiful. No one will see you in the bookstore, curled up with your Bukowski, and want to save you.
Stop waiting
for a salvation that will not come from the grey-eyed boy looking for an annotated copy of Shakespeare,
for an end to your sadness in Keats.
He coughed up his lungs at 25, and flowery words cannot conceal a life barely lived.
Your life is fragile, just beginning, teetering on the violent edge of the world.
Your sadness will bury you alive, and you are the only one who can shovel your way out with hardened hands and ragged fingernails, bleeding your despair into the unforgiving earth.
Darling, you see, no heroes are coming for you. Grab your sword, and don your own armor.

Unknown (via fridakathykahlo)

(via of-summer)

theimpalaslovechild:

and in that moment, everyone’s heart broke

(via of-summer)

(via of-summer)

paticmak:

Roman Holiday

(via saundersponders)

(via lucifersassbutt)

frozenandhungry:

I don’t even care how many times I’ve reblogged this.

(via 17dvds)

(via saundersponders)