21. Creative Arts | Industrial, Graphic and Interior Design student. I enjoy music, literature, classic screwball comedies, and languages.
Install Theme

vira-sana:

You are allowed to grieve the years you lost to mental illness. You’re allowed to be mad that it happened to you. You’re allowed to pine after the person you might have been had it been different. But don’t let that get in the way of your growing into your new self and following a wholly new path for your life.

(Source: acheloi-s, via cosmicspread)

People who live alone always have something on their minds that they would willingly share.

— Anton Chekhov, About Love (1898)

(Source: goodreads.com, via nickisreallyawesome)

flowury:

the grass is alive and it is dancing

flowury:

the grass is alive and it is dancing

(Source: poetryof-motion, via cosmicspread)

meninthistown:

Street art.

meninthistown:

Street art.

(via failed-allusions)

have you considered that maybe i am not pleasant?

maybe i wear lipstick so that
you will see my pretty pink mouth
wrapping around a coffee cup lid
and be distracted enough not to notice
that i am intelligent and powerful;
a threat.

maybe i draw my brows into high arches
so you will look at my unimpressed skepticism
and overlook my spiteful glare
as a trick of my silly, girlish routine.

maybe i wear my heels so high and thin
so that i grasp your attention with the sway of my hips
as i listen to the click-clack-click against the floor
and know that if you should try to overpower me
i walk on sharpened knives.

maybe when i laugh at your worthless jokes
i am really baring my fangs
waiting patiently for the day
that i sink them into your neck.

i am not made of porcelain pleasantries;
you will find that these things are my armor
to keep you at a distance
so you do not step on me and shatter
my fragile control.

i am not a husk — i am not wilting.
i am turning my head
so that the fire blazing through my eyes
does not catch on the accelerant of your sweaty palms
and burn your bones to dust.

i am not your pretty girl;
i am a fury, a faerie, a phoenix —
a forest of werewolves and wendigos
that will carve out your chest
so that the next time i paint my pretty pink lips
i will taste the copper tang of your dying breaths.

R.K., I Am The Wolf Only Barely Contained (via thenemeton)

(via failed-allusions)

My dog is very sick. I took him to the vet on wednesday and I had to leave him there for some blood tests. I picked him up early yesterday and he was still very nauseous and weak. It is extremely difficult to give him any medicine.. I just want him to be okay.

tacheia:

went to le musée national Gustave Moreau

(via an-itinerant-poet)

so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.

— Pablo Neruda (100 Love Sonnets)

(Source: booksandnerds, via ttenderly)

(Source: whippoorwont, via shy-gestures)

Work in progress ☕️🕗

Work in progress ☕️🕗