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Something inside is hurting you – that’s why you need cigarettes or whiskey, or music turned so fucking loud you can’t think.

(via fu-cksadness)

so fucking l o u d 

(via dl0u)

(Source: unextinguished, via flaneurfox)





I love you, that means I’m not just here for the pretty parts. I’m here no matter what.
–  Claudia Gray, Hourglass  (via pureblyss)

(Source: a-thousand-words, via flaneurfox)





I’ve always been an ironic dreamer, unfaithful to my inner promises. Like a complete outsider, a casual observer of whom I thought I was, I’ve always enjoyed watching my daydreams go down in defeat. I was never convinced of what I believed in.

I filled my hands with sand, called it gold, and opened them up to let it slide through.

Words were my only truth.

When the right words were said, all was done; the rest was the sand that had always been.


– Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (via cold-winter-days)

(Source: efidelity, via cold-winter-days)