Do yourself a favor: become your own savior. Daniel Johnston  (via eloluctant)

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We are the generation of nostalgia. We grew up in the age of transition. From hand-written letters to electronic mails. From film to digital. We were fascinated by new things, neglecting the way we spend our afternoons. Cupcakes and tea. Play-Doh and Polly Pockets. Young and naive. Technology completely changed the way we waited and we grew up too fast. The simple things in life seems more meaningful now. We grew up in the age of transition and have become the generation of nostalgia. (via eloluctant)

(Source: kistymea, via xxthinningxx)

172,394 notes
I don’t want to care. Please, I don’t want to care about you anymore. And today, I found out that you still ask about me; you still ask our friends how I am. I wish they hadn’t told me. I don’t want to know that there’s still a little piece of you that cares. Please, I don’t want to care about you anymore. Don’t you think you’ve put me through enough? I don’t want to care // by c-oquetry (via c-oquetry)

(via euphoricemmz)

209 notes
I’m not interested in being easy on the eyes, I want them to flinch, think twice before they reach out their callous hands to bruise. I want to be a constant reminder to men that not everything is theirs for the taking. fabiola - for girls who aren’t interested in being easy on the eyes 
(via closedforprayer)

(via euphoricemmz)

39,832 notes
We are what our thoughts have made us; so take care about what you think. Words are secondary. Thoughts live; they travel far. Swami Vivekananda (via perfect)

(Source: rojin, via freshtalal)

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Don’t fall in love with a curious one. They will want to know who you are, where you come from, what your family was like. They will look through your photographs and read all of your poems. They will come over for dinner and speak to your mother about how their curiosity has taught them things of use to her. They will ask you to rant when you’re angry and cry when you’re hurt. They will ask what that raised eyebrow meant. They will want to know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite person. They will ask why. They will buy that camera you liked, pay attention to that band you love in case there’s a show near by, they will get you the sweater you smiled at once. They’ll learn to cook your favorite meals. The curious people don’t settle for your shell, they want the insides. They want what makes you heavy, what makes you uneasy, what makes you scream for joy, and anger, and heartbreak. Their skin will turn into pages that you learn to pour out your entire being in. Don’t fall in love with the curious one. They won’t let a sigh go unexplained. They will want to know what they did. Exactly what they did to make you love them. Year, month, week, day. “What time was it? What did I say? What did I do? How did you feel?” Don’t fall in love with a curious one because I’ve been there. They will unbutton your shirt and read every scar every mark every curve. They will dissect your every limb, every organ, every thought, every being then walk back home and eat their dinner and never return your calls. You will never be their lifelong expedition. The heart is a mystery only for so long. There is no ache like loving a curious one who chases every falling star and never catching one. Who comes and sees and conquers and leaves. I’ve fallen in love with a curious one. Maybe one day he will take the train back home and be curious enough to read one last message from me carved on a seat. “There’s a curiosity in you that will move mountains some day as effortlessly as you’ve moved me for years.” Don’t Fall In Love With The Curious One (via 4thletter)


(via burgundythoughts)

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