(Source: octopussoir-)

Reblogged from burntbypizza with 59,372 notes

powerburial:

take me down to the forbidden city where the grass is forbidden and the girls are forbidden

Reblogged from desire-t0-be with 1,206 notes

shoulderblades:

movie poster for shiki-jitsu (ritual), directed by hideaki anno, 2000

shoulderblades:

movie poster for shiki-jitsu (ritual), directed by hideaki anno, 2000

Reblogged from nau-see with 6,395 notes

orthopedick:

"Are you wearing the Ch…"Chanel Boots? Yeah, I am.

orthopedick:

"Are you wearing the Ch…"
Chanel Boots? Yeah, I am.

(Source: fuckyeahsmilingdogs)

Reblogged from thefisherman90 with 161,136 notes

(Source: pastel-whorehouse)

Reblogged from yungelita with 1,433 notes

the-goddamazon:

blackgeologist:

annulet:

this was replayed by me more than 50 times

She’s my fav

WHERE DO Y’ALL FIND THESE

(Source: dualchainz)

shaquilleofeel:

you have encountered the pothead bush of prosperity, if you go to bed your crush will kiss you

shaquilleofeel:

you have encountered the pothead bush of prosperity, if you go to bed your crush will kiss you

Reblogged from werewolf1992 with 55 notes

youraveragetrainwreck:

killinchill:

I am dying

*inhuman screeching*

Must. Have. All.

(Source: belaquadros)

Reblogged from lilacat with 5,454 notes

"

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 she 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)

Reblogged from cybergirlfriend with 218,426 notes