I am so irrevocably in love with Jeff Buckley.

Obsessed with photographs of people I've never met and places I wish to see.

Links Pertaining To Myself


songbird(s) singing

hit counters

“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.”

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Things to complete this year:

Lose weight.
Tone my body.
IV League/IV Track.
Further perfect and maintain my flexibility.
Maintain my 4.0 (or improve.)
Get a job.
Help a stranger.

Travel to:


6,398 notes, date: 23/7/2014


i liked you because when you spoke you said
things like “blue busses remind me of Easter”
and “God lives inside the walls of art museums”

two days before graduation you picked me up at 4 AM
and we drove down to Michigan, I told you about my
sister and you told me about winters in Connecticut

when i left for college, i wrote you three poems and
handed them to you in white envelopes, you gave me
sea shells you found when you were thirteen and alone

he tastes bitter and i still think about your laughter
i wonder if you look for the moon on broken nights
because my skin burns when strange boys touch me

when i received the invitation to your wedding,
i took a shower and boiled myself into patches
of pain, then i called and said congratulations

she looked beautiful at the wedding and i got
drunk off of red wine and told your mother how
you used to cry when people called you brave

we talked once, you told me you haven’t read
my poems yet and asked if i still had your sea
shells, i told you i was supposed to be in white

i moved to Australia and three years later i
received an apology letter from you which
i burned and then wouldn’t sleep for weeks

i still think about you on nights when my
husband is sleeping and my black lungs
want cigarettes i promised to stop smoking

i saw you in my dreams last night, you
were kissing my neck and stroking my
thighs and i woke up crying in sweat

i went to your funeral last Thursday night,
you were always talking about Autumn so
i didn’t think you should have died in winter

i cut my hair short before visiting your grave
because i didn’t want anyone to recognize me,
i left your sea shells and cried on the way home

— confessions from my alcoholic mother  (via irynka)

(via irynka)

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A young man and a woman enjoy swimming in flooded St. Mark’s Square in Venice, Italy, Sunday, Nov. 11, 2012. I want this.

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"Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody is fucking happy. Nobody has skin made from oil paint and sunlight. Nobody fucking understands this world. Fuck, nobody probably understands math as much as they claim. You’re here one day and the next you’re not. God? Religion? I’ve learned a lot more about the world by eating acid and swallowing pills. Tell me what your church has done for you? Tell me if you have holes in your mouth from speaking lies? Wanna know the fucking truth? Pity is just another word for pathetic. Drink beer and watch the sunrise from every rooftop. Take photographs naked. Take photographs kissing. Take photographs having sex. Stop making everything about sexuality. Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody really gives a damn if you lost your virginity at fourteen or if you were the president in high school. Wanna know the fucking truth? There is no such thing as the right person. People leave. They change like ocean currents, they leave you with bruises in your calves. And you wanna know the fucking truth? You get better. You learn to love. You find God in between the cracks of a wall when you’re puking your limbs out. You wanna know the fucking truth? Go find it." 

— something someone should have told me when i was eighteen  (via irynka)

(via irynka)

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Daily reminder that everyone needs a strong relationship with themselves. Be selfish, it’s okay sometimes.

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"Every written word is a suicide note.
And a love letter, too." 

— Robert Thomas, “Catchy Tunes” (via middle-sea)

(Source: larmoyante, via fabulousbitch69)

3,519 notes, date: 23/7/2014


Indifference will be our demise.

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