Child of the moon
"People don’t look at your personality first. People judge you automatically by your looks and then try to get to know your personality. But the second they don’t like your looks, they don’t get to know you. That’s how reality is."Unknown  (via niallhorans)

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i took this in verona the morning after the arctic monkeys concert and everything was silent and still and i remember thinking that i would have given anything for the world to stay this way 
"Wait for someone who bumps mouths clumsily with yours cause they’re too busy smiling to kiss you properly. Yeah. Wait for that."(via seabelle)

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"Each time you read a book, a tree smiles knowing there’s life after death."

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"start ignoring people who threaten your joy.
literally, ignore them.
say nothing.
don’t invite any parts of them into your space."
Alex Elle (via coyotegold)

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it hurt when I stumbled across her.  she was like broken glass all along the floor.  but it was beautiful and my curiosity got the best of me.  I remember looking at her and all I could see was pain.  she had this insane look of desperation; you could almost feel it. and yet her eyes were still hollow; like the life had been sucked out of her.  I wanted to pick up her pieces.  I wanted to put her back together. and so I tried. I really did. I got a little cut along the way.  the more I tried to fix her the more fragile I became myself but I didn’t care.  I wanted to see her happy.  every time I made her laugh I thought about how I wanted to make her laugh forever.  she was getting better.  eventually she was put together enough to get up and walk away.  but she didn’t take me with her.  and I’ve been stuck sitting here where I first found her. wondering if the pieces left on the floor are hers or mine. I should probably get the fuck up.



This actually fucking hurt to read.


Oh my god, this is so heartbreaking yet so fucking beautiful to read. Just wow, I’m speechless.

my heart has been ripped apart I cannot


Famous Viners?


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Trippy Blog
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Trying to Carry Groceries In One Trip.
"Hers was a twilight world, where the moon floated up over the trees at night like a tremulous balloon of silver light and the bluish rays wavered through the leaves outside her window, quivering in fluid patterns on the wallpaper of her room. The very air was mildly opaque, and forms wavered and blended one with the other. The wind blew in gentle, capricious gusts, now here, now there, coming from the sea or from the rose garden (she could tell by the scent of water or of flowers)."Sylvia Plath (via feellng)

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