beutifulday-inmay
I think about dying but I don’t want to die. Not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic. There’s so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I’m still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can’t quite figure out what the hell I’m doing or how to get out of it.
Matty Healy (via porodise)
seasandsails
Sext: I saw you for the first time in 3 years yesterday and all of a sudden I was 15 again and it was January and I still thought that love smelled like stale Christmas trees and tasted like snow. And we became adults together and fell apart like adults do because they don’t know anything more than children.
Sext: I saw you for the first time in 3 years yesterday, but you did not even act like you recognized me and suddenly I am 18 and it is June and love smells like melting asphalt and tastes like blood.

"The First One" by Claire Luisa  (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

FUCK FUCK FUC K

(via lonely-hearts-clique)