Nomadic

doesn't matter where I'm going as long as I'm gone

July 30th was a Friday

You were so happy dancing in the pool. My feet on your feet, a weightless symphony of silly slow dancing in the blanket of warm water. I was happy too. But I held your torso tight and pressed my face against your chest to cry because it was the moment I realized that I can’t save you from your demons and I so desperately want to cling to every single purely good moment. Something is coming, rumbling in the distance. Nothing this good will last forever, but I will wait for you anyways.

We loved in the purest way at some point but I remember the day I crossed the threshold to the other side. The first time I cursed at you. The first time I wished evil on you. The first time I prayed not for us to be together but for us to never have met. I think right now I’m not even sure if I love or hate you more. I can feel both reverberating in my chest at the same time.

just a thought

that pharmacies are trying to diagnose every little bit of personal uniqueness as a mental problem with their “medicines” and soon everyone is going to be the same boring person who goes through school, gets a job, and dies working but it’s ok to them because at least no one gives the authorities any problems and we’re all mellowed out on our xanax 

Art thieves in a bank robbery (via bethearts)

(Source: vincentvangoghawayfromme, via breatheinthesoulofthecity)

Grab the Monet and let’s Gogh

mixgoldenphoenix:

youdtearthiscanvasskinapart:

agirlnamedmomo:

what is this? I like it

It’s called LSD

That comment nearly had me spew coffee all over my keyboard.

(Source: nevver, via wealtplus3it)

"My family is suffocating me with pressure to be a perfect student and daughter." (r.i.d)

So relevant it hurts

(Source: inkskinned, via maegan9)