install theme
youtubekillsme:


dendenmusume:

fuckyeahhyugiohyaoi:

stayfearless134:

You never know if someone needs this. Reblog this, even if its not your ‘blog type’. Just do it.

Yes, please reblog

Do it. Now.

i sat here and thought about reblogging this or not but then i realized how many people feel suicidal, and i  have too its not dan and phil but i could honestly care less, bc i rather have someone not die then make sure i strictly stay to my ‘blog type’ 

"It is just a body. The more you can be neutral about a body, the better. Bodies change, and many times they change from things out of your control. Bodies do not, and never will, have anything to do with your value."

- Bevin Branlandingham  (via lostgal49)

(Source: queerfatfemme)

"So, do it. Decide. Is this the life you want to live? Is this the person you want to love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? Kinder? More Compassionate? Decide. Breathe in. Breathe out and decide."

- (via soul-runner)

(Source: whilde-daisi)

thatfunnyblog:

when someone hot follows you back 

image

avocados-and-cardio:

I don’t know why this makes me feel better but wow did I need to hear this.

(Source: motiveweight)

"A good goal should scare you a little and excite you a lot."

- Chris Soriano (via w-ildfires)
rematiration:

lamexicanhoe:

sainthannah:

zeram:

caitlinchronic:

White privilege is killing 26 people and being the ‘quiet friendless boy’ meanwhile murdered brown people are undisciplined drug dealing thieves. 


Not even just 26 people, Lanza killed 26 elementary-aged children.

sick to my stomach

yup
ionicsky:

extrasad:

Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because 
I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside
of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.
The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told
me you didn’t love me anymore and lava flooded
my body and hardened till I stopped sleeping.
I had stars in my lungs but I burned them
all out with the cigarettes I was smoking
to get you the fuck out of my throat. The
flowers growing at the bottoms of my 
stomach are dead. Apparently you  
can’t water flowers with vodka.
I had the sky in my veins but it’s
been pretty fucking stormy since I
ripped them open. I had planets 
on the tip of my tongue but
the debris from the shattered 
remains of “us” have been
crashing into them. I was
everything. And then I met
you and we were everything.
Now you’re fucking some
blonde girl who gets
high all the time and
I’m a fucking
mess.

this is my favorite fucking poem ever ever ever

mangoestho:

everyone needs friends who will encourage them to pierce things and ride things and go to places and buy shit and show off side boob. everyone.