my friend pulled me unconscious from the bottom of a pool last saturday and i don’t remember how it happened. i don’t remember how i got down there or her dragging me out or puking foam orthe ambulance or apparently yelling for killian to save me and get the paramedics off me. and then i woke up in the ER. and everything looks different now.
OOTD: Self loves makes me smile. A lot.
I have had more and more days like this lately. Days where I just feel too cute to be alive, and I can’t stop from smiling. It’s not always easy, but breaking yourself of the self-loathing habits you were brought up to know is hard. Once you start breaking free, though, life is better in all the ways.
There’s not much to say about this outfit, because it was too hot (or I was too lazy) to accessorize. The dress is thrifted, and it was the first thing I thrifted upon moving to Georgia! I wear it probably once a week. Love.
Want that dress. Miss your face. Love you 5ever.
It bothers me because it’s unequal, but it also bothers me in its implications: that my body is inherently sexual, and a man’s body isn’t. It feels like men are being viewed through the first-person lens of “it’s nice to feel the sun on my skin, and I don’t mean anything by it” and women are being viewed through the distinctly third-person lens of “it’s inappropriate for me, a heterosexual man, to see her sexy parts.” It ignores the experiences of people who are turned on by male chests and somehow manage to contain themselves when they see one. The Pervocracy: My boobs want to be free. (via sexisnottheenemy)
The Sounds Of Silence, Simon & Garfunkel
the soundtrack to my brood-day yesterday aka my birthday l o l
(Source: anwaranwaranwar)
i feel like i’m rolling in a crowd hearing this live
every time i listen to this now
(Source: youre-irrelevant)
Wearing this to the first day of work because I can.
Reef-er madness.
EEEE> My wife!
elliott smith <3333333333
(Source: girlgangzine)

