Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,

A box where sweets compacted lie…


(Source: queenpeletier)

Tell them stories. They need the truth. You must tell them true stories, and everything will be well. Just tell them stories.




far and beyond my favorite models. 

hells-bells666 she has no boobs!!!



(Source: anawfullotofrunningtodo)

Those hardest to love need it most.


(Source: wolfstrk)

I am reaching, but I fall, and the stars are black and cold.


If you don’t scream, no one will listen to you.


(Source: xxxmale)

You wouldn’t recognize me anymore, not that you even knew me back then.


(Source: crystalslimesmountainswaves)

Humans should not only rejoice in suffering but rejoice that they have received the gift of suffering.


(Source: jordanblake)

Watch out, you might get what you’re after.



By Christian Hopkins, this very talented young photographer uses his photography as a true artistic outlet to help with his depression. The whole set of images are just stunning and really draw you in, a perfect example of how art can help a person having a difficult time to express themselves. 


We suffer because we learn from our suffering.


(Source: ghostkamika-z)

If you hide your whole life, you’ll forget who you even are.


(Source: sequestrador-do-bob-esponja)

… He was the personification of all the snow in the world.



i don’t feel any happier than i did from when i was that big.

honestly, i wasn’t even that big. but now i feel superior to those who do eat normally - even though i know i’m the fucked up one making the mistakes.

but, uh, you know. this morning my mom was talking about her friend’s mother in law who just passed away. three years bedridden. and i think i’m going through a lot? well, fuck, this ain’t shit. this is child’s play compared to real suffering.

i wonder what she thinks about when she’s bedridden. when she was younger? does she look at the ceiling and… if it happens to me, will i stare at the ceiling and see prague when i close my eyes? (there comes that surge of emotions i’ve tried so hard to throw up) will i see… myself in new york, dressed to the nines? will i feel a steering wheel or rifle in my hands? or a kiss on my lips? and will i ever want it to end?

well, fuck. this ain’t shit.


(Source: red-r0ses)