Attract what you expect,
Reflect what you desire,
Become what you respect,
Mirror what you admire

archive moi

" I feel nothing
I feel everything.
I don’t know which is worse.

— 2 am thoughts   (via adieufranz)

(via adieufranz)

" I hope you look for me in everyone you meet. "

— Because I Look For You (#206: February 27, 2014)

(Source: write2014, via middernacht)

" I think she’s special. She doesn’t need anyone. Like that’s the thing. Even if we were together, she wouldn’t really belong to me. She doesn’t belong to anything. She’s off in her own world… "

— Childish Gambino
(via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: thestyledjungle, via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

" Let me taste how wet you are "

— (via lezzkiss)

(via thatonebl0nde)


When I was like 8 my mom took sims away bc I made girls kiss lmao nice try mom I’m still gay

(Source: weedkinz, via thatonebl0nde)

" Fall in love with the sound of her voice, because that’s the first thing you’ll lose when she’s gone. "

— Unknown (via blackbruise)

(Source: italianluxury, via justcalmyourvagina)

" She waited for the train to pass. Then she said, ’ I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while.’ "

— Haruki Murakami, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman 
(via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

" You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken. "

— Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1 (1931-1934)

(Source: larmoyante, via belleetelle)

" Your name still breaks my heart. "

— (via unabashinglyme)

(Source: kissmyscarsdarling, via destroyingg-myself)