Bittersweet.

I can make you laugh, make you believe in anything you need, be your angel, all your dreams come true, be your one and only, be your sweet and true. But honey, i will go away, i will fly even without you by my side, i am not that sweet and you did not just realize that i am rude, evil and i love myself that is not a suprise i tell people everthing, even if they later cry, i know i fight for things i know that are right and i fight just to stay alive, i know i should be more gentle, but i am not, i know i should be more sorry, yes and no, i know that would save my butt, but i coud not care less.
~I am that bittersweet girl who you can not
simply impress.~
~L


A young British boy reading outside the ruins of a bookshop after suffering bomb damage during the Blitz.
London - October 8, 1940.

A young British boy reading outside the ruins of a bookshop after suffering bomb damage during the Blitz.

London - October 8, 1940.

(via fullmetalstydia)

You will have days where you feel better, and you will have days where you want to die. Both are okay. There is no magical cure. You just need to close your eyes, and trust that the waves will pass, and soon you’ll be able to breathe again.

For almost 18 years you’re taught to sit down, shut up, and raise your hand. Then you have to decide what you’re going to do for the rest of your life.

(Source: spiritualseeker, via nurmengardx)

When men imagine a female uprising, they imagine a world in which women rule men as men have ruled women.

Sally Kempton

I feel this is very important.

(via yourenotsylviaplath)

why do you think they’re so scared?

(via steelfemme)

(via tiocfaidharlulz)

You’re not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson… you miss it.
Welcome back.

(Source: bene-batch, via snowybarnes)

Lovesick Teenage Poem

camhasablog:

what a cliche I’ve become

devoting my mind so desperately

to my certain someone

in sappy soliloquy

a writer loses his touch

to mushily preen

but space has become tight

and I’m losing my mind

because her hand fits mine like a glove

and I know it sounds generic

my infatuated repose

i simply cannot bear it