twitter - @_courtxo
Welcome to my mind..


since abercrombie an fitch destroys its unsold clothes and wont donate bc poor people wearing their clothes gives them a bad image i say everyone should donate as much abercrombie and fitch brand clothing that you have to homeless shelters so you can simultaneously piss off a shitty company and help those in need

(via just-enjoy-this-shiit)

she killed herself last thursday
(twenty-one days after christmas)
i called her nineteen times
(once for each zoloft she swallowed)
i left seventeen voicemails
(the other two times couldnt breathe enough to speak)
sent fifteen texts
(my hands were shaking)
i spelled “please” wrong thirteen times
(and “sorry” wrong eight)
i missed six days of school after
(i can still hear the sympathy in their smiles)
i listened to her last voicemail over and over
(four hours of self hatred)
memorizing the inflection of the last three words
(love you, bye. LOVE you, BYE)
but i didnt want you to hang up
kept screaming at the damn recording
like i could make it say something more
(took me two days to gain back sanity)
but it never did so
(fuck fuck fuck)
there was no end

terrified ellie prorok (via per-solus)

(via fierrrrrrce)


according to USA Today, the average tumblr user spends 2.5 hours a month on tumblr


more like 2.5 hours an hour.

(Source: tsarcasm, via mcmxcvi17)

Of course, you never really forget anyone, but you certainly release them. You stop allowing their history to have any meaning for you today. You let them change their haircut, let them move, let them fall in love again. And when you see this person you have let go, you realize that there is no reason to be sad. The person you knew exists somewhere, but you are separated by too much time to reach them again.

—Chelsea Fagan, How We Let People Go   (via homemayde)

(Source: seabois, via lunquelle)

I want you. I want to throw you against a wall, wrap your legs around my waist and kiss you. Kiss you until we have to stop to catch our breaths. I want you and only you. I want to take you on road trips that lead us to pulling over on the side of the road because we can’t keep our hands off each other. I want you and your flaws. I want your messy makeup from teary eyes as I hold you and talk to you about life. I want the 3am phone calls because you can’t sleep at night. I want to be yours and only yours. I want to taste all your cooking, even if it’s not good, even if it’s experimenting I’d have you cook every meal for the rest of my life. I want you. I want my trembling hands to grab your waist and dance with you in the middle of an empty room. I want to struggle on days when I can’t see you. I want to fight about meaningless stuff that will lead to meaningful sex. I want you. I want your hand to rest on my forearm as we enter a party, so I can reassure you that you are safe with me. I want to sing to you in the shower and have you shut me up with kisses because we both know I’m no singer. I want the ups and downs, the winter and summer days. I want you and only you…