dream girl.
Can't stop, won't stop.
Modified, Relentless, Glamorous.
A pixie with giant opinions and a sailors diction.
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Photo reblogged from Touch the Earth
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Quote reblogged from kittenfacecourtYou get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place. Like you’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again.Azar Nafisi (via professional-princess)
(Source: paradoxicalsentiments)
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Photo reblogged from The Absolute Funniest Posts!
I love this moviee!
(Source: bloodydifficult)
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Photo reblogged from they only want you when you're seventeen
I’m a birth control babe!
(Source: satanic--hispanic)
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Photo reblogged from the Leighton thing
these two couples please. is that so much to ask?
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Oh, it's fine. I do the same thing on my tumblr from time to time. But someone had to tell you.
Asked by lejackal
Well thank you so much :]
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You are beautiful.
Asked by lejackal
Thanks. I promise I wasn’t trying to get messages like this. I just really wanted to get how I felt recently out.
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I don’t feel pretty, or sexy, or desirable. I don’t really feel beautiful.
And I go every day and I keep telling myself that it’s not about feeling pretty, or sexy, or desirable. It’s not about feeling really beautiful.
It’s about feeling confident, assured, and empowered. It’s about not letting anything or anyone tell you how you feel about you.
But I don’t feel confident, or assured or empowered. And noones telling me how to feel about me.
I just don’t. And sometimes I feel like sex is just a way two people can use eachother to build a bridge over an issue so deep rooted there’s no hope to yank it out. An issue so old and weathered and withered, that noone even notices it in the background. Or they forget it all together, either way.
Sometimes I don’t feel quite comfortable in my skin. Sometimes I feel as if it truly crawls and the cells inside me that I cannot see are vibrating and shaking and it makes me restless, but I don’t want to move. I don’t want to cry, I don’t want to yell.
I just want to be.
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Photo reblogged from Salt in the air, sand in my hair
This is the reason I dreamed to find a friend with a hot older brother when I was like 12.
(Source: cuddlebeans)
