at fate's edge

there's a common belief that artists know how to make art. this is untrue. i've yet to meet a single artist who has any idea what they're doing

Takes a guy who's obsessed with saving people even if it risks his life and a guy who is literally allergic to asking for help in any situation and puts them in My stew puts them in my fucking stew and stirs it

I bring a kind of frozen deer vibe to situations that the headlights really seem to like

t-shirt with the words “high-functioning corpse” printed on it

the horrors persist but so do books, art, hot chocolate, winter nights, the moon, the sea, the stars, sunsets, literature, libraries, cats, flowers, stories, love and the wistful feeling you get when you finally return home

important reminder that most people you follow online are significantly lamer than you think they are including me. and if you feel insecure comparing yourself to someone online: DON'T. theyre probably also lame and weird. most people on the internet are

reblog if you're also lame and weird.