larrythinksstuff:

Needed this today.

larrythinksstuff:

Needed this today.

(via 666cess)

(via 666cess)

(via 666cess)

mayahan:

Beaded Skulls by Our Exquisite Corpse

The skulls are cast from resin and hand beaded on a layer of wax.

(via danngitbobby)

I hope they ask about me & I hope you tell them you fucked up. — (via misslucy-rose)

(via abchannahxyz)

Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her stupid. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer. — Azra.T (via 69rooms)

(via abchannahxyz)

psyducked:

do you ever wonder how many people have had a crush on you and never told you

(via abchannahxyz)

I love lipstick. I want to write an essay about the politics of lipstick. I like lipstick that’s deep, deep red. I like lipstick that’s purple, lipstick that’s black and dark for when I want to dress up my melancholy. I like sharing lipstick with sisters. and I laugh at boys that think I wear lipstick for them to notice, I laugh, lipstick is an art you can’t ever understand. from picking out a color, testing it on the inside of my wrist, pursing my lips during the application of it. I like when I kiss a baby and leave lipstick on their cheek, when you hug someone and leave lipstick on their shirt, when it gets on your teeth and you use your tongue to get it off, when you sleep in lipstick and wake up with it on your pillow case. in 1997 mama left for Ethiopia to see her mama for the first time in 12 years. I was six and I cried the entire way home from the airport. and when we came home there on the kitchen table was the teacup mama had been drinking out of. at the bottom a sip of tea and black cardamom seeds. and there on the rim of the cup the lipstick imprint of my mama’s kiss.

nomad manifesto

this is the most beautiful thing i have ever read

(via fashinpirate)

(via unassumingnerd)

I’ve stopped being sorry for all my soft. I won’t apologize because I miss you, or because I said it, or because I text you first, or again. I think everyone spends too much time trying to close themselves off. I don’t want to be cool or indifferent, I want to be honest. — Azra.T “Don’t Wait Three Days to Text First.”  (via akachristiannaa)

(via larrythinksstuff)

suprchnk:

find a booty you can worship daily and settle down.

(via larrythinksstuff)

It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling— that really hollowed-out feeling. J.K. Rowling (via dissapolnted)

(via breezieshea)