Science side of tumblr, I demand an explanation
Simple. What you see there is not wine, but blood. The four sacred glass mages are merely raising it up with their magic to present it to the Dark Lord in a feeble attempt to keep him from decimating their homeland
Thanks science side *tosses a biscuit*
The mind fuckery is too real
(Source: puzzylipz, via melancholific)
"Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to
museums, and parks, and monuments,
and kiss you in every beautiful
place, so that you can
never go back to them
without tasting me
like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most
beautiful way possible.
And when I leave
you will finally understand,
why storms are named after people."
"People, I have discovered, are layers and layers of secrets. You believe you know them, that you understand them, but their motives are always hidden from you, buried in their own hearts. You will never know them, but sometimes you decide to trust them."
"I’ve become what I hate the most. I’m clingy, annoying, obsessive, anxious, loud, hateful, and unloveable. Sadness has consumed and is controlling me very being. There’s no escaping pain, there’s no escaping who you are. When you’re left alone with yourself you begin a never ending war. This war is killing me quicker than oblivion ever could. I always thought if I could find that one person, that one other person that could fill the empty void in my mind and heart, I could finally be happy. But, as usual i’m rejected and left to battle my own self-war alone. I wonder if he knows I would give my life for him? I wonder if he knows my love for him burns on, and that it kills me to know he’ll never feel the same. I don’t blame him. It’s hard to love someone like me. I don’t even love myself so why the hell should i expect someone else to? I really adore you. So much that I can’t leave you alone. Why is everything so unfair? Why is this world so god damned unfair? Happiness only to those who’re lucky, I, on the other hand, am not lucky. Sadness will follow me around like a ghost seeking revenge. Maybe sadness is the Grim Reaper? Maybe it’s time for me to go. I don’t know."
ive been singing the ‘I will kill you in your sleep so you’d better try to try to keep awake’ into the airvents for the past five minutes and my mom is going crazy because she cant find the source of the creepy music
update: she has called the neighbor over to help her
okay so im recording my voice singing it and putting it in the air vent os it can just keep playing
okay final update: im grounded
What To Do When Your Boyfriend’s Asshole Best Friend Says, “Hey, Never Trust Anything That Bleeds For Seven Days And Doesn’t Die,
OR The Only Poem I’ll Ever Write About Periods.
Don’t excuse him because he’s had
at least three lite beers
and is sweating through his black button down
that his mom or exgirlfriend
probably bought him.
Don’t excuse him because he’s been turned down
by the last six girls he went on dates with
after meeting them on tindr
with a picture that’s seven years old
Don’t excuse him because
he’s usually such a nice guy
because you don’t want to be a bitch
because you don’t want to cause a scene
because when you were seventeen
your sister told you
no one likes an angry feminist
Let me explain something to you.
Every goddamn motherfucking month since I was eleven,
a part of me
tore itself to shreds
ripped itself apart inside me
and then remade itself.
So yes, I bleed for seven days
and I don’t die
You know what else can do that?
Things of legend.
Fuck, I can even
So I say, never trust anything that can’t
bleed for seven days and not die.
You know what that makes it?
So let’s see, hon,
What you’re made of.
If you can bleed for seven days
and not die.
Rip out his jugular with your teeth.
And when he bleeds for seven seconds
spit on his corpse and say,
I thought not.
"I love you. I’m in love with you. You’re the love of my life. My every feeling is controlled by the look on your face. I can’t breathe without you. I can’t sleep without you. I wait for you, I watch for you. I exist for you."
Surprisingly, your hands fit in mine like it was made for me. Back then, I thought that my gigantic hand will swallow your hands but when I interlocked my fingers with yours, it’s perfect. But no matter how perfectly fit they are, it’s still nothing because you’re far from me. My hands are getting itchy because it miss yours. I miss those times when I’m always holding your hand. Those times when we’re just an inch away from each other and it seems like we’re inseparable. I miss those times when we act as one, we think very much alike and we’re making two reflections into one.
We both know that holding hands in a relationship is one of the cutest thing ever and that’s why we always did that back then. But how can we do it now when you’re not here. How can we prove that it’s the cutest thing ever when we are separated by this distance. How can we tell other people that our hands perfectly fit when your hands are not in that place where it was supposed to be, in mine. How can I glued my palm on yours when you’re there and I’m here. Holding hands is one of the most amazing thing in a relationship, but right now that I’m only holding your imaginary hands, it isn’t. In my mind, I make up all those possible things we should be doing right now but thinking of them is not enough and what’s worst is that I just ended up being disappointed. I’ve gotten so desperate that I even ask the wind to take me to you.
My hands miss yours. My arms miss yours. My lips miss yours. Damn it, I miss you. There I said it. My whole being craves for you. Though there are some ways to contact you and ask for you to be here with me again, we both know that I won’t do that. I wanna do it well, but I know that you’re quite busy right now and I don’t wanna disturb you. But I’ve got one little request from you. Can you spare me some of your time one of these days? Because I wanna hold your hands again. And though it’ll be hard for me to let you go when it’s already time for you to leave again, I’m still hoping that you’ll say “Sure. Why not?” My hands miss yours and I hope your hands are feeling the same thing too.
"Some lose all mind and become soul,insane.
some lose all soul and become mind, intellectual.
some lose both and become accepted."
I don’t want sex, I want the things that lead up to it. The slow kissing then the passionate kissing, then the pulling closer, the neck kisses, the grabbing, biting, heavy breathing, grinding, the pauses while you catch your breath, feeling each other. Oh my.
"1. I don’t like folding laundry or talking about my emotions. I’m likely to leave both scattered all over.
2. I’m not much for cooking but there will always be coffee.
3. I’ll wear anything of yours with sleeves. I love when they’re long enough to wrap around my hands.
4. Sometimes the world is too harsh, too big. It’s hard to leave the house on days like those.
5. When I was sick as a kid my mom would run a bath for me and wash my hair. It was always so soothing. Maybe you could do that every once in a while.
6. I find it difficult to finish most things. My room is home to countless journals of incomplete thoughts.
7. I won’t love you any less in December. I think my heart just wasn’t meant for the cold.
8. I never truly know why I’m crying so don’t bother to ask, simply be there.
9. There’s whiskey in the medicine cabinet.
10. If things get terribly bad, please don’t give up. Get me in the car and drive to the sea. The waves beneath my toes will wake me up and I’ll be yours again."
I just want someone to flirt with and make me laugh and kiss me in the middle of my sentences
Mad Girl's Love Song →
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me…