HOLA
Hey, Im Emily. Im from brighton, I admire the female type;) Im weird as fuck and Im 15. Also I like bands:) Im inlove with Demi Lovato. If I like your blog enough, I may follow you back<3
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Anonymous (via tetrapharmakooss)

(Source: seventeenthave, via drowning-in-blue)

The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.

virginsacrificer:

next time a stranger tells you that youre familiar and youve met before they just cant remember where just clear your throat and tell them do you watch porn?

(Source: virginsacrificer, via scarred-wrists-scarred-mind)

philspenis:

a beautiful story

(via lolsofunny)

When you slowly start hating someone you were friends with.

image

(Source: anondracomalfoy, via lolsofunny)

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

(via canonlygoupfromhere)

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

pizzaforpresident:

emerant:

this is too wild

i’m so glad i watched this

(via bemyfriend-h0ldme)

palegem:

Men want us to kiss them with beards, suck their dicks and kiss their balls with pubes, hug them with hairy arm pits, intwine our legs with hairy thighs, but if women have one hair on our body that isn’t on our head it’s disgusting

(via canonlygoupfromhere)

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