The best haircuts are always the one where you cannot tell the damn difference.
HAM I RITE LADIES
Watching My Super Sweet 16 makes me so angry.
selfish little demanding worthless brats.
Post-run fuel and celebration of my 21st birthday: steel-cut poppy-seed oatmeal cooked in vanilla soy milk with banana, blueberries, dried fig and date, walnuts and honey pb and a slice of vanilla french toast with vanilla almond butter and banana, drizzled with cinnamon and honey. 650 calories for breakfast?! Hell yeah!
gotta be streetview
I’m not even sure what my blog is anymore.
(Source: xannabelx, via geekycrap)
And that’s the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn’t always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn’t even something — it’s nothing. And you can’t combat nothing. You can’t fill it up. You can’t cover it. It’s just there, pulling the meaning out of everything. That being the case, all the hopeful, proactive solutions start to sound completely insane in contrast to the scope of the problem.
It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared.
You know when you read something that’s so accurate that you don’t know how to words?