leading-blind-bats:


thedarklordsay10:

priestlyandtish:

drunkenspeecheson-sobriety:

reblogging again because it’s absolutely incredible

important as fuck

can i put this on my refrigerator

I’m tapping this inside my locker and my room and looking at it everyday, this needs to be seen.

leading-blind-bats:

thedarklordsay10:

priestlyandtish:

drunkenspeecheson-sobriety:

reblogging again because it’s absolutely incredible

important as fuck

can i put this on my refrigerator

I’m tapping this inside my locker and my room and looking at it everyday, this needs to be seen.

(via atticus-is-eternal)

2damnfeisty:

radicalrebellion:

funnyordie:

via Cop v. Black Guy

I can’t even laugh…cause this shit is true

I can’t laugh either. Realest thing ever.

(via fabulouslyfreespirited)

I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you
what spring does with the cherry trees.
— Pablo Neruda, “Every Day You Play”   (via budddha)

(via ladystoneheartss)

(via fabyusfs)

Each time I’m asked to tell about myself, I find myself starting the same way: “My name is Kelsey and I’m nineteen..”
but what I’d really like to say is:
“My name means island of the ships but once
I found a translation that said I’m a burning shipwreck-
not a burning ship but a ship that has caught fire
after the wreckage and well, I’d say that’s more fitting.”

I’ve learned that people don’t have time for about me’s.
They need two things: a name and an indication you’re someone special.

The doctors, they want facts not details.
“I broke my leg when I was three, it’s a funny story actually-“
The right or the left?
Conversation over.

The teachers, they want interests, hobbies.
You’re sad, yes, but what do you like to do?

The adults are a spew of questions.
What school do you go to? What classes are you taking?
What do you plan on becoming? Got a boyfriend?
No, stop.

People my own age are the worst.
“I’m planning on an English degree with a concentration in creative writing.”
Yeah, aren’t we all. So how many times have you, you know,
done it?

I’m pulled apart, my interests travelling highway 2
my goals at a stop light at traffic hour,
my medical history on a billboard for the world to see.
But what about me?

Where’s the chance to say,
“I hang on to fistfuls of poetry like loose change in my pockets,
and I keep waiting for the day that the world turns upside down
so I can swim with the stars.
I’m not afraid of darkness, it’s a loneliness I can empathize with it.
It’s the blackholes like cigarette burns inside of me that get troublesome.
I walk through graveyards and read the dashes between years,
each a story I’ll never know. Sometimes I create my own.”

No wonder none of us know who we are anymore.

Kelsey Danielle, “I Was Told to Write an About Me and This is What Happened” (via littlejaw)

(via jaimescersei)

stormbornvalkyrie:

"The common people pray for rain, healthy children, and a summer that never ends. It is no matter to them if the high lords play their game of thrones, so long as they are left in peace. They never are."

stormbornvalkyrie:

"The common people pray for rain, healthy children, and a summer that never ends. It is no matter to them if the high lords play their game of thrones, so long as they are left in peace. They never are."

(via jaimescersei)