(via negativeyouth)
(Source: fivetenfifteentwenty, via sp1r1tw3rld)
"
Most of your time is spent being dead, or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain wasting years for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right, but it never comes. Or it seems to, but it doesn’t really.
So you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along, something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel cherished, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is, I feel so angry. And the truth is, I feel so fucking sad. And the truth is, I’ve felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long, I’ve been pretending I’m okay, just to get along
I don’t know why. Maybe because…no one wants to hear about my misery…because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.
"Synecdoche, New york
Downtown chuco
I cringe eveytime I have to get on mynmsu. Fuck that shit.
my future mustache
(Source: to-the-bar, via dismalpsychosis)
(Source: broskki, via i-insectica)
