Nevermind.

(via clementiinne)

(via rock-n-roll-is-religion)

foxesinbreeches:

From Damaged Negatives by Glen Luchford

Also

I am not like
other people.
I am
burning in hell.

the hell of
myself.

— Charles Bukowski  (via middecember)

(Source: elisebrown, via libertinnus)

(via emsirocked)

So you plant your own garden and
decorate your own soul, instead of waiting
for someone to bring you flowers.

— Jorge Luis Borges (via Swanfeather Songs)

(Source: quote-book, via iloveyoulikeilovetea)

gilldoesbookstuff:

“There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams — not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.” 

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

(via theonlymagicleftisart)

(Source: m4conheir4, via emsirocked)

(Source: pemberle-y, via h-e-l-l-o-m-y-h-a-t-e)

(via b-a-d-reputation)