Le Petit Prince

Je Suis Toilet

helloryanholmes:

wailtothethief:

radgreymon:

pumpkins age like white people

JESUS FUCK I AM IN A CLASS AND I’M TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

I just peed a Little

helloryanholmes:

wailtothethief:

radgreymon:

pumpkins age like white people

JESUS FUCK I AM IN A CLASS AND I’M TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

I just peed a Little

(Source: patonki, via chrislovesfish)

“It’s just this strange thing I do where I allow myself to briefly fall in love with another human being that I see on a train, or the sidewalk, or in a warm café.”

—   Chelsea Fagan, Dear Beautiful Guys I Pass On The Street: I Love You (via houseofhautecouture)

(Source: thegoodvibe.co, via daan-dy)

(Source: fuckzzz-off, via lostinwhatwillbe)

scorpiondagger:

get the full experience here

scorpiondagger:

get the full experience here

(Source: foxadhd.com, via 2headedsnake)

orlandobloomfistmeintheass:

tastefullyoffensive:

I love the look on his face when he gets to the smallest one.

[theflyhater]

i fucking watched this

for 15 minutes

waiting for the look on his face when he gets to the smallest one

15 minutes

of staring 

i trusted you

do you understand 

how much i want to kill you right now

(via lostinwhatwillbe)

buttercakesandteacafe:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

buttercakesandteacafe:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(Source: importantbirds, via prospit-page)

ghost-nappa:

boostopherpikewood:

parents gone for the night

you know what that means

*lets in stray cats*

party time

image

(Source: bruceykinns, via relahvant)

“Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.”

—   John Keats (via introspectivepoet)

(Source: goodreads.com, via introspectivepoet)

“As in the soft and sweet eclipse,
When soul meets soul on lover’s lips.”

—   Percy Bysshe Shelley - Prometheus Unbound (via hoodoothatvoodoo)

Oh! my dear Mister Valentine
it did occur to me,
while musing over morning time,
that I could not quiet be;

as while dressing, beyond my pane,
some birds a chorus ply,
with leaves damped in the Winter rain,
so, I could not cease my sigh;

for it has been one whole day!
one whole day from you!
How heavy does your absence weigh!
How I miss you does accrue!

And though I know it’s not so bad
for I shall see you soon
and as though were never parted
from the star-lit, tired tune.

Oh! my dear Mister Valentine!
how that dark rose does cry!
How it did burn me at its time!
Now dead, still its joy is mine:

And with each passing meeting kept
in that warm coffee shop,
and through those days and nights we’ve crept -
dawns and dusks we’ve sat atop.

But ah! amid the mists and the rains,
far from each spark of fire,
I laze and gaze out into the lanes,
and know it is not so dire

for

here upon the morning risen,
I sit and drink coffee,
and wonder at my past misprision,
until you have come back to me.

—   Z. Haynes
miketooch:

miketooch:

(Source: naotter, via laughbitches)

(Source: maldigente, via lecterings)

mtsilveronrs:

but why would we ever remove the wisest of our teeth

(Source: senntisten, via graw-lix)