peaches

like to charge, reblog to cast.

Does anyone like me or love me

holy shit i am so fucking sad

still sad, still don’t wanna live in this universe, still in l*ve but won’t admit it anywhere but here

How to beat yourself with a metal pipe tutorial

i am disgustingly self aware there's nothing you can tell me that i haven't spent weeks reflecting on

i’m doing really well for someone who goes through the five stages of grief every day

I really enjoy just existing in hotels. The long identical hallways. The soulless abstract art. The weird noises the air-conditioner makes. Strange city lights in the window. Six stories off the ground. Strangers chatting in the hall. Nothing in the dresser. No past, but an infinite present. 

we are the daughters of parents who should not have had kids

This too shall pass but like holy fuck