My inner homicidal closet slut.

Troubled, troubling, troublesome

geneticallymodifiedorgasm:

Feeling sorry for myself, maybe I should cut? ? ? Give me attention? ? ? I push people away until I really need them? ? ?

is it okay if I keep coming back to you even if you push me away? because I will

geneticallymodifiedorgasm:

Feeling sorry for myself, maybe I should cut? ? ? Give me attention? ? ? I push people away until I really need them? ? ?

is it okay if I keep coming back to you even if you push me away? because I will

(Source: bye-bye-bye-bitch)

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“No relationship is ever a waste of your time. If it didn’t bring you what you want, it taught you what you didn’t want.”

—   (via xokrista)

(Source: psych2go, via succumb-to-your-passion)

“Apparently orgasm is the only point where your mind becomes completely empty, you think of nothing for that second. That’s why it’s so compelling, it’s a tiny taste of death. Your mind is void, you have nothing in your head save white light.”

—   Jeff Buckley (via desinercia)

(Source: jeffbuckleyforever, via septemberfortwo)

“Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, “Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.”

—   Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)

(Source: justsingyourlifeaway, via succumb-to-your-passion)

“I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’”

—   Azra.T, My Heart is Full of Open Windows (via connotativewords)

(Source: 5000letters, via succumb-to-your-passion)

A Poem For My Friends, Whom I Love

camelot-tis-a-silly-place:

my mother tells me that life is like a piano
you can’t play beautiful music without hitting both white and black keys
you tell me it feels like you keep hitting the black keys,
again and again and again
maybe that means you were meant to play the guitar, instead
I could listen to you play…

evolutional:

drunk nights with lots of kissing are actually my favorite 

(via arnoldjshortman)

opalesent:

I want 0 responsibilities and a lot of lingerie

(via little-sparks-of-light)

incandescent-moonchild:

wwonderfullovee:

passivelove:

lust-andlullabies:

get-good-vibes-and-fly-solo:

americanapparel:

Source: http://passivelove.tk/

I crave to have this one day

THIS IS THE MOST SAD PART OF THE FUCKING MOVIE A;LSKDJFKLDSA;

Seriously what the fuck are you saying? This is the BEST part, the HAPPIEST part, the end of the movie, when they finally get to live together and they take a shower and all they can do is to lay their head on each other shoulder, because THIS is what real happiness is.

• love, sexual, romance blog •

Actually no. If you really pay enough attention you will realize that at this part they aren’t happy. It is at this moment that they realize that they are no longer in love. That they love the other people that they were with.

I can’t decide if I love or hate this movie and that is why it is beautiful.

(via succumb-to-your-passion)