When you have a broken heart, the first thing a stranger will ask is ‘how long were you two together?’ As if your pain can be determined by how long you were with someone. Or if you were with them at all. I don’t think that’s how it works. I think unrequited love is just as valid as any other kind. It’s just as crushing and just as thrilling.
Posted 2 days ago335 notesreblog

Give A Little Love - Noah And The Whale

Saturday, July 26th
Posted 2 days ago101,426 notesreblog
I thought you were the only star in my sky, until I looked up… Posted 3 days ago83,865 notesreblog
skinsrebellion:

♡skins blog♡
Posted 5 days ago5,011 notesreblog
1,577 notes // reblog

I've Just Seen a Face - The Beatles

Wednesday, July 23rd
In the sea of desks there is talk of bags and games and long pipes that leak dreams with the strike of a match.
And there is a loudness to the whispers I hear,
Whispers shouldn’t be that loud, should they?
There is a girl over there who everyone knows and men without ears will stand by the door for a price.
In long hallways there are angry mobs of dwarves and rats and one single ANGEL.
- Rusty`s poem from Stuck in Love (via hellomynameisordinary)
Wednesday, July 23rd

at the ripening age of thirteen, i fell in love for the first time
because holden caulfield was the handsomest man alive according to vice magazine,
and what did that leave me to be
except a child sprinting through a field for the nearest cliff, screaming, ‘catch me, catch me, catch me!’

a red hunting hat adorned the back of my eyelids
but it wasn’t ‘in’ this year
and even if it was, my head was probably the wrong shape for it
but i didn’t throw it away for another six summers -
i was hoping i could find someone to love me with it,
but i’d waited with rose-tinted glasses for long enough.

and ah, love! i never understood love -
it wasn’t right, wasn’t genuine enough,
and at nineteen, i had absorbed the role of catcher as my own.
my family fed me through clenched teeth
and subsisted on a diet of my university grades and muttered swear words in return.

who am i now to absorb this feeling thrown backwards through my fingers
like an upside-down hourglass?
i cannot comprehend this,
and every year i let go by without doing so
is another child i have allowed to fly past me into the dark void

and oh, how i wish it were me instead.


- i missed the point of catcher in the rye | ishani jasmin (via ishanijasmin)
Wednesday, July 23rd
cleverbl0gtitle:

What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though. J.D. Salinger
Posted 5 days ago3,594 notesreblog