sprout:

it is actually really sweet when someone stays up late to talk to you

theflamingonator:

charlesoberonn:

Things I should be doing: Writing

Things I am doing: Imagining random shit from the story I want to write without actually thinking them through and then forgeting about them.

you put it in words bless you

  • me: no one likes me
  • someone: I like you
  • me: thanks
  • me: no one likes me
  • Vincent Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness inside him. Many people thought he was mad and stupid for doing so because the paint was toxic, never mind that it was obvious that eating paint couldn’t possible have any direct correlation to one’s happiness, but I never saw that. If you were so unhappy that even the maddest ideas could possible work, like painting the walls of your internal organs yellow, than you are going to do it. It’s really no different than falling in love or taking drugs. There is a greater risk of getting your heart broken or overdosing, but people still do it everyday because there was always that chance it could make things better. Everyone has their yellow paint.
    ― (via moonsulk)

    harminqs:

    I hate it when you finally accept one of your insecurities and then someone makes a harsh, unneeded comment about it and it puts you right back to square one.

    I am an introvert. That means that when I’m feeling down, chances are that I won’t actually go to you for help. In fact, I won’t go to anyone for help. You’ll have to actually check on me. I don’t feel that I should burden others with my problems but if you come to me, I might just trust you enough to let you help.

    trencly:

    tips on how to properly enter my room:

    1. do not

    yongmuney:

    this is an appreciation post for anyone who has ever tolerated me