fell in love with the fire long ago

ok wait, reblog if you’ve cried at least once because of math, doesn’t matter which grade i’m trying to prove something 

i hate when other people are funnier than me.

— Anaïs Nin, from Nearer the Moon: The Previously Unpublished Unexpurgated Diary, 1937-1939 (via loveage-moondream)

You have my gun

And my gun

And my gun!

the personification of death being portrayed as deeply kind in fiction is something that reduces me to tears every single time

You turn on your PC to keep working on your novel, but to your surprise, when you open the file, it is writing itself. You read some of what has already been written and it seems your characters have created free will, and the plot is progressing without you.

“oh thank god” says the writer

I find myself getting less and less ambitious the older I get.

When I was graduating high school I wanted to do great things and be super famous and change the world.  Now I just want to hang out and not bother anybody.

“Where do you see yourself in 5 years” just chilling hopefully

I could recognize him by tits alone

*loses my mind in the most silent way ever*

downloading pdfs & epubs in a most wanton & lascivious manner

ok but can HE make ME worse