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AnyWhereBUTthere.

Jasmina | 16 | babb'in
Clothes ; Make-up; Music; Ripped shorts; Bob Marley

Live,Love,Party<3-forever,Leggo'

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Don't ever hesitate. Reblog this.

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433
LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255
Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386
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Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673
Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272
Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000
Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

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Holding hands may seem like an innocent gesture, but they show more than a simple interlocking of fingers. Your hands are one of the most essential parts of your body: you build with them, feed with them, hold with them, touch with them, fight with them; they are the tools of the human body. To take a hold of another’s hand is to break from living individually. It is to link yourself to another being, to momentarily entwine your life with another’s, to promise, for a moment, that you need not face the world alone. More simple, more aesthetically naive than other forms of affection, i.e kissing, hugging, sexing.., the act of holding hands is often trivialized in its true implications.

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THE YEAR 2758

child: mommy i can't sleep
mother: don't worry child. lay down as i sing you this ancient lullaby, passed on through my family for generations
mother: RACK CITY BITCH RACK RACK CITY BITCH

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(Source: rogueaeterna, via brayaaan)

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brayaaan:

fragile-spirits:

jarrodis:

Saturday died in my arms last night. yesterday i had a feeling it would be that day. i just had a feeling. i have never watched something die before. he wouldn’t eat or drink and just wanted to snuggle, and as soon as he stopped breathing, his teeth clenched and his entire body went stiff. i was really confused and am really fucking sad. he had a nice last day, though. after i came home from the darkroom my dad and i gave him a warm bath in the backyard while he nibbled on apples. then i wrapped him up in a little towel burrito and we walked all around the neighborhood and it sounds stupid but i just showed him all these flowers, because i thought maybe he, in his lil rabbit brain, would think they were really pretty or something. i think he did. and i talked to him a lot yesterday, more than usual. told him about when i first met him, told him about a bunch of nice times we’d had together in case he’d forgotten in his old age. i sound retarded being this sentimental about a rabbit but honestly he was one of my best friends. and when someone or something is there almost your whole life, whether it’s a person, or an animal, or even something dumb like a table or a blanket, you feel it when it leaves. i suppose it was time. but it doesn’t make it easier. he has been there almost my whole life. (14 years! he was insane) it’s crazy. fuck. loved that little buddy. so fucking much.

<3

); 3

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(via fairys-g3t-unic0rnz)

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