Three Bats When I think of you, flowers grow out of my grave.

hope . california.
My blog is not to please you<3

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milktree:

shigaretto:

6am i haven’t slept.

a favorite
"You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness."
Jonathan Safran Foer (via kitty-en-classe)

19 hours ago - reblog - 937 notes

tylervarsell:

Drawings by Leah Yerpe
"If you have the ability to love, love yourself first."
Charles Bukowski, “How To Be A Great Writer” (via hidekihotblock)

2 days ago - reblog - 16,260 notes

"

Each time I’m asked to tell about myself, I find myself starting the same way: “My name is Kelsey and I’m nineteen..”
but what I’d really like to say is:
“My name means island of the ships but once
I found a translation that said I’m a burning shipwreck-
not a burning ship but a ship that has caught fire
after the wreckage and well, I’d say that’s more fitting.”

I’ve learned that people don’t have time for about me’s.
They need two things: a name and an indication you’re someone special.

The doctors, they want facts not details.
“I broke my leg when I was three, it’s a funny story actually-“
The right or the left?
Conversation over.

The teachers, they want interests, hobbies.
You’re sad, yes, but what do you like to do?

The adults are a spew of questions.
What school do you go to? What classes are you taking?
What do you plan on becoming? Got a boyfriend?
No, stop.

People my own age are the worst.
“I’m planning on an English degree with a concentration in creative writing.”
Yeah, aren’t we all. So how many times have you, you know,
done it?

I’m pulled apart, my interests travelling highway 2
my goals at a stop light at traffic hour,
my medical history on a billboard for the world to see.
But what about me?

Where’s the chance to say,
“I hang on to fistfuls of poetry like loose change in my pockets,
and I keep waiting for the day that the world turns upside down
so I can swim with the stars.
I’m not afraid of darkness, it’s a loneliness I can empathize with it.
It’s the blackholes like cigarette burns inside of me that get troublesome.
I walk through graveyards and read the dashes between years,
each a story I’ll never know. Sometimes I create my own.”

No one, none of us know who we are anymore.

"
Kelsey Danielle, “I Was Told to Write and About Me and This is What Happened” (via ignify)

2 days ago - reblog - 18,271 notes

theyrenever-gonnagetme:

maxrajmahganja:

666-grams:

how much $20 of weed gets you.


lets all go to the netherlands