"Why is this happening? I don’t understand."
WHY DONT MORE PEOPLE LOVE STING RAYS LOOK AT THAT FACE
Because they ganged up on the crocodile hunter and shanked him in cold blood.
boys are fucking stupid
|—||Dave Grohl (via fragil3rec0very)|
"There is a tendency to want to get thick-skinned. There is a tendency to block out negative things, because they really hurt. But if I stop feeling pain, then I’m afraid I’ll stop feeling immense excitement and epic celebration and happiness. I can’t stop feeling those things, so I feel everything. And that keeps me who I am.”
Do you ever miss watching me pick at my nails? Do you ever miss the smell of my perfume, or the way my hair felt against your back?
no, you don’t
I WILL NEVER NOT REBLOG THIS.
I know that I love history, and I always have. There is something so captivating about learning, reading, writing, wanting to know why people do the things they do. You have to fully understand history to appreciate it, I think, and I guess that means that I have a fair understanding of the world and the skeletons it has in its’ closet, the graveyards that we now live and were raised on. The things that make the earth how it is, the secrets of the world that you really need to understand to see the beauty of this place we live in.
I know that I want to leave my hometown. I love it here, and I always will, but it is a constant reminder that this is a place where people do not really advance, or care about their state of live. I come from a town where 30% of my school’s population receives free or reduced lunch. We are educated in the same building that our parents, and then their parents, were educated in. Our halls lack insulation. Our student body lacks motivation. The words college and test scores and standardized testing all run in one ear and out the other.
I know that the old men in the gas stations whistle at pretty, uncomfortable young girls, though they are not any harm to anyone (although sometimes it feels like they could be). The middle aged men with tattoos, secret children, and a welfare check coming in the mail all seem to have a thing for junior high girls, and they are actually a threat.
I know that before I graduate in a mere three years, I will probably lose 5-10 classmates to death, teenage pregnancy, or their own naïvetés due to their belief that a GED will get you anywhere in this world.
I know that I have a bad habit of choosing boys who are too old and too emotionally detached for my own good, and I’m really trying there. I also know every boy I have been interested in is exactly what I have always told myself that I did not want, and continue not to want.
I know what I want. I want a man with dark, messy hair, and bright eyes, not in their color, but in the way that he has and will always see the world. I want someone compassionate. Someone who, regardless of what they have been through, continues to see the world as a place that is beautiful and full of hope. I want someone who is sarcastic and has the most bizarre sense of humor in the world. Someone who has a laugh that is contagious, a laugh that makes you want to do whatever you can to make sure you hear that laugh every day for the rest of your life.
I need someone who is cynical. I need someone who does not make fun of my favorite books, my favorite movies, my favorite songs. I need someone who understands that I will not always be kind and happy. I will be sad. I will cry, I will scream, I might even run. But I need someone who knows that I will always return to them, no matter how far I stray.