Posted 8 hours ago

ruinscape:

french weed joke:

80

Posted 8 hours ago
Posted 8 hours ago

Trying to stay awake in a boring class

image

Posted 8 hours ago
Posted 8 hours ago

figurants:

some people were born today. hello babies welcome to the earth. you missed a bunch of stuff while you were busy not existing. jbiebs did some things you would not believe

(Source: gooqueen)

Posted 22 hours ago

condom:

mom I scraped my knee I need a $1000

Posted 22 hours ago
Posted 22 hours ago

bayconbit:

concernedresidentofbakerstreet:

r0dents:

fireflufferz:

sigh-asdfghjkl:

andrewhussiesbosom:

[9th grade voice] ugh 8th graders

[8th grade voice] ugh 7th graders

[7th grade voice] ugh 6th graders

[6th grade voice] haha ‘penis’

[5th grade voice] *gasp* you said penis

[College voice] haha ‘penis’

(Source: queerhound)

Posted 22 hours ago

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)

Posted 22 hours ago
Posted 22 hours ago

alittlebitgayandmore:

Shang’s journey to self discovery as told by me

Posted 22 hours ago
Posted 22 hours ago
Posted 22 hours ago

katsplanet:

whenever people say they dont like cats because they dont happily greet you at the door i give them the stinkiest eye

(Source: stevenstelfox)

Posted 22 hours ago

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 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)