We are all ordinary. We are all boring. We are all spectacular. We are all shy. We are all bold. We are all heroes. We are all helpless. It just depends on the day. by Brad Meltzer (via saddest-summer)

(via dirtylittlestylewhoree)

blackcoffeedreamer:

Welcome to ameruica, home of the derp

blackcoffeedreamer:

Welcome to ameruica, home of the derp

(Source: imadogonacouch)

But I don’t want comfort. I want poetry. I want danger. I want freedom. I want goodness. I want sin. by Aldous Huxley, Brave New World  (via kantasatya)

(via kantasatya)

(Source: limped, via youresoblack)

Posted: June 23rd
kantasatya:

kantasatya:

(Source: crayolasky)

(via diesummerlove)

Symptom Recital

I do not like my state of mind;
I’m bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn’s recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I’m disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I’d be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men….
I’m due to fall in love again.

by Dorothy Parker
Posted: June 11th
Posted: June 10th
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