(Source: long-romantic-walk-to-the-fridge, via fuckyeahdementia)
(Source: long-romantic-walk-to-the-fridge, via fuckyeahdementia)
(Source: someworriedshoes, via fuckyeahdementia)
(Source: ailovekago, via fuckyeahdementia)
DO YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT?
NO, I’M JUST GOING TO GO HOME AND FILL MY SOCIAL MEDIA OUTLETS WITH DEPRESSING NON-SEQUITIRS AND DISJOINTED QUERIES THAT ARE OBVIOUSLY INTENDED FOR SOMEONE SPECIFIC INSTEAD OF CALLING THAT INDIVIDUAL OR SENDING THEM AN EMAIL, FORCING MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY TO ASK ME WHAT’S WRONG WHILE I JUST GO “NOTHING, I’M FINE” AND CONTINUE TO POST AN ENDLESS STREAM OF SKYLINE PHOTOGRAPHY AND NATURE PANORAMAS WITH SEVENTH GRADE POETRY TEXT ON TOP. OH, AND RAINDROPS ON WINDOWPANES. CAN’T FORGET THAT.
YEAH, BUT I ALREADY KNOW YOU AND KEITH BROKE UP. WE COULD JUST TALK ABOUT IT.
NO. I HAVE TO GET TO TUMBLR.
from left to right;
I am afraid to hold my boyfriend’s hand.
My friend’s parents sent her away.
I found death threats in my locker.
I submitted to electroshock therapy.
I lost half my friends after coming out.
My grandmother sends me hate mail.
My school won’t let me take my date to prom.
I am not here anymore.
My dad tried to beat it out of me.
No one is proud of me.
(Source: lui19h, via stfuconservatives)
vê as faltas no Júpiter no final do semestre
(via Fernando Gorab)
(Source: umuspianoquando)
PAI DO ANO