(via gnarlysnarly)
(Source: littlest-fawn, via mellamochuey)
I’m like cat here, a no-name slob. We belong to nobody, and nobody belongs to us. We don’t even belong to each otherBreakfast at Tiffany’s; 1961.
(via missmeggiemac)
(via heyponyboy)
Short Story Number Seven Hundred and Five
My mission today is to drink lots of tea and ignore all the idiots who try to talk to me at school. I really can’t wait to get the hell out of here to be honest. I’ve got a million places that I want to see and I kind of feel that time is already running out. I guess the biggest thing I worry about though, is that I’ll get scared and stay scared and do nothing with my life. I guess I just want to go on some adventures or something.
(Source: keremmermutlu)
(via jessysanatomy)
(Source: nothingleftunspoken)
(via comablood)
"Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to."
— Alan Watts (via neil-gaiman)
(Source: alanwatts.com, via wordpainting)
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