Install Theme © It's been a long day;

unclefather:

we take for granted all the times our nose isn’t stuffy

(via adventurlonging)

catchaglimpseofalleble:

mr-egbutt:

WAKE UP POTTER
WE’RE GOING TO THE ZOO

Oh i get it now.
brolinapproved:

catchaglimpseofalleble:

nikkysclit:

Can you not?

AHG, I fucked this up!

omfg I’ve seen the high school musical post about 15 times and I’ve never understood why it had so many notes. Now I finally understand

hanjelia:

lifeaccordingtohan:

-You know you’ll be ok, but you still feel awful.
-You know people love you, but it doesn’t feel like they do.
-You know doing something will make you feel better, but you just don’t know how to.
-You want to be well, but you just can’t seem to get there.

SOMEONE SAID IT

(via drowning--my--demons)

rickate-kateick-caskett:

ofthegoodshipargo:

All day:

image

9:55pm (run to television):

image

9:59pm:

image

10:00pm:

imageimage

10:08pm:

imageimage

10:09-11:00pm

image

image

image

image

End scene Castle/Beckett moment:

image

Next week’s preview:

image

And then I wait for next week….

image

This is relevant once again.

(Source: weforgotthepresident, via castlefreak005)

relaapse:

perfectlystarvingg:

ana

—
"

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 she 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)

(via constant--n0thing)

iguanamouth:

not knowing how to spell a word but playing it off and mispelling it really bad so it looks intentional like “hey when are you meeting us at the restetrauretant”

(via constant--n0thing)

spangefucker:

my hair is VERY soft and could EASILY be played with and you know how many people are playing with my hair??? zero

(via constant--n0thing)