macklemack:

50 shades of dark circles under my eyes

woods-baby:

taking care of my baby plants in our lil greenhouse in the yard

relahvant:

i don’t understand how there are people who don’t listen to music ever like

are you people okay??????

dutchster:

so umm there was
wait
uhh there was this
umm so there was this girl
wait 
never mind
- me telling a story

broadway-aradia:

i really want to carry a torch in a cave just like one time

thefaultinourheadcanons:

emeralddarkness:

ughjohnwatson:

do you ever get in those moods where you don’t feel like reading and you don’t feel like being on the internet and you don’t feel like watching a show and you don’t feel like sleeping and you don’t feel like existing in general

BUT YOU WANT TO DO SOMETHING.

It’s in words
“Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording —all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.”
— Sylvia Plath