reblogged 7 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 88,438 notes via/source



crushes are terrible


reblogged 7 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 252,842 notes via/source


ELIE SAAB Paris Fashion Week 2014 - Part 1

reblogged 9 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 43,499 notes via/source


perks of dating me:

  • I sing a lot of showtunes
  • I watch a lot of musicals
  • I have lots of links to broadway bootlegs
reblogged 9 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 1,920 notes via/source


checking my bank account is starting to feel a lot like checking my grades when i know i’m failing a class

reblogged 11 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 5,854 notes via/source
reblogged 12 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 32,196 notes via/source


were u not hugged as a child

reblogged 15 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 207,649 notes via/source
reblogged 15 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 125,590 notes via/source

I am riding in the passenger seat, listening to my mother talk about the ways love has failed her. She has been called “wife” by four men, “girlfriend” by eight names she has slipped into conversation, “lover” by strangers I will never meet. When I curiously ask, “Why stay married if you’re unhappy?”, she goes stiff. ‘You don’t understand,’ she says defensively. ‘You’re just a kid.’
I am seventeen the first time a boy mentions marriage to me. We are giddy from the idea of gaining light by revealing our dark to each other. We have no idea that one day, when we are sharing a bed, we will look forward to getting away from each other in sleep.

At nineteen, I am doodling in the margins of my college notebook, when my teacher says, ‘Second marriages have a 67% chance of ending in divorce. Third marriages have a 73% chance. And if you’re on your fourth, well, really, what are you doing?’ I think of my mother in her fourth unhappy marriage. I think of my father in his fifth. I wonder if picking myself up and trying again is in my genes.

I do not pick myself up and try again when I learn that I am not going to marry the first person I loved. I pack my tiny world into two suitcases while he is at work and leave the photos of us to die on his wall. I write lots of shitty poetry and tell my ghosts to ‘keep quiet’ when I think nobody is listening. The next time a boy knocks on my chest and asks, ‘How deep do you go?’ I do not show him. I say, ‘Infinitely’ and leave when he complains about the spaces in me he will not be able to fill up.

My ninety-year old grandma, with her silver hips and bullet-wound lips, tells me, in a thick accent, that ‘Nice girls should be married.’ For years, I watched her treat love as the greatest task on her ‘to-do list,’ always cooking and cleaning to keep the relationship alive. But I am too weak, too selfish, too young to carry the weight of love. And I am trying to first settle the disorder in my head before I think about sharing my bed.

» Forever Is Too Large To Promise | Lora Mathis  (via lora-mathis)  
reblogged 20 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 10,512 notes via/source



reblogged 20 hours ago @ 21 Aug 2014 with 158,493 notes via/source
posted 1 day ago @ 20 Aug 2014
xstraightwhiteboystexting xincredible


why does everyone care about being mature for their age like maybe i fucking like drinking from juice boxes and eating my popcorn like a fucking lizard fight me about it

reblogged 1 day ago @ 20 Aug 2014 with 283,227 notes via/source


“here’s my series of books written in sparkly gel pen. i call it…glitterature”

reblogged 2 days ago @ 19 Aug 2014 with 139,013 notes via/source
reblogged 2 days ago @ 19 Aug 2014 with 1,386 notes via/source


my whole life


reblogged 2 days ago @ 19 Aug 2014 with 304,905 notes via/source