(Source: pushthemovement)

(Source: unadoptable, via elegantlegs)

im now aware of all the obstacles in my life that had previously never existed, or i had never subconsciously allowed myself to face. this year my confidence has been swept beneath the webs of high anxiety and paranoia that eats at me as i try to assure myself things will get better. the barrier that once separated my pessimism and optimism has broken, leaving my nights haunted with the image of my self destruction. 

i no longer feel the warmth of the clean cotton blanket that is security 

new home is the hospital, hopefully no one will ever have to holler. fuck this, i just want you to get better

completely inadequate to all the things and people i want in my life. i have no particular talent, no hobby, nothing that makes me interesting or unique. i have nothing to say when someone asks “tell me about yourself” or “what do you do in your spare time” i fucking suck

vuls:

Installation view by Olafur Eliasson

(Source: sickatunde, via getsomefrills)

(Source: tattooedmafia, via getsomefrills)

(via marcel-j)

(Source: rnelancholyminds, via ju-das)