avocadoandvegemite:

I’m pro carbs and anti pants

(via xkaleidoscopesx)

queensoybean:

babyhucks:

America: Where dudes can get unlimited boner pills that have no other medical use but women can’t get birth control pills that prevent cancers, regulate periods, help with menstrual cramping, prevent break outs, and help with cysts. 

I think it’s time for a woman’s uprising.

(via iamtheforeigner)

,,

The things I write about you are not pretty.

For example: You are the ugly way I feel about Los Angeles, mouth a smear like sunset singed with citrus burns. Hollywood hill is a smashed pomegranate against your scorched teeth. All the stars walk the red carpet while I write sonnets to your mouth. It’s been too long since the last time we spoke, I’ve forgotten what everyone else looks like — your hands are trees made of smog, and they have taken root in my lungs. I wish this city would burn to the ground.

For example: The last time I fell in love, I broke all the dishes in the kitchen and bled out on the floor. You were not good for me. You held the bandaids, but I told you to put them back in the drawer. I loved being so broken for you — your heart was a hospital without the healing. My parents never taught me that being loved for your wounds was wrong.

For example: Tonight, I am falling asleep without you. I’ve had bad dreams ever since we met, things about dark-haired women that die because they never ran fast enough. I never ran fast enough. I’m still learning what it’s like not to find your face etched into the wood of my floorboards, and I’m failing miserably. You were not good for me.

For example: You were not good for me. You were California burning, and my lungs couldn’t take it. You were not good for me. You were a broken spine I couldn’t set; I was a scab you always picked. You were not good for me.

For example: Get out of my poetry, nobody wants to read about the ways we broke. Get out of my poetry, this isn’t about you anymore. This is about Los Angeles and how much I hate the sky. California wasn’t good for me — nothing about dying is pretty.

Burn Victim | d.a.s (via backshelfpoet)

(via inkywings)

  • Person: why do you wear black?
  • Me: to mourn the death of my enthusiasm

dullaidan:

i love vines and super short videos cause its like “man this video is only 4 seconds how much could happen in 4 seconds” so much man So Much

(via 123-sprinkles)

kiransingh:

the only domestic instinct my parents have managed to pass on to me is the tendency to hoard multiple plastic bags in another plastic bags despite the fact that I will probably never need this many plastic bags in my adult life

(via iamtheforeigner)

phobias:

my interests range from cute puppy’s to hard core sex

(via cumfort)

sexhaver:

i knew a dude in college who kept an old Smirnoff bottle full of water on his desk and would casually chug straight out of it in the middle of conversations with new people in order to establish dominance

(via sincerelyyourskaitlin)