It is hard. It’s like I’m struggling to breathe and live. Every air that I take, I see you, feel your coldness and I tear down. I’m trying to be tough, I’m trying. I’m trying to just.. ooh shit. It really hurts.
Imagine you’re like in a party and somebody tells you “somebody died fast we need to go to the funeral” and you’re just like
what the fuck kind of scenario is that
a gatsby party
THE BOOKS BEEN OUT SINCE 1925 YOU ABSOLUTE PANCAKE
If you love her enough
My friend John always has something to tell me. He knows so much that young men have to have older and more worldly wise men to tell them. For instance who to trust, how to care for others, and how to live life to the fullest.
Recently, John lost his wife Janet. For eight…
ok new rule: if you’re gonna call me “cute” you have to specify whether you mean “cute like a little girl/baby animal” or “cute enough to bang mercilessly”