PEOPLE on this website don't Talk about this shit enough:

i love you comforter i love you pillow i love you sheets i love you mattress i love you plushie i love you dark room i love you bedtime

i have what I call the “This is my first time on earth” stare

listening to music you loved when you were younger feels like a connection with your past self. like did she know I’d be listening to this exact same song so many years in the future? she couldn’t have imagined the person I am now. it feels like a hand reaching through time. like looking at the moon and realising that throughout history other people have looked at the same moon and felt the same way. a moment when the boundaries of time blur and it’s just me, enjoying music, connected with all the past versions of myself who are listening to this same song

not strong enough - boygenius

doing past life regressions just to watch my husband die from tuberculosis on our tobacco farm

i drag him out the screen door and down the front porch steps, he says he wants to stare at the sky as he dies. i don’t know the first thing about farming tobacco. 

what was i made for?

“ophelia” by john everett millais but it’s barbie and for the sake of this concept let’s pretend that there is in fact water in barbieland

[A white fortune cookie paper with blue text. Front: The best times of your life have not yet been lived. Lucky Numbers 41, 36, 22, 51, 39, 34 Back: August, Chinese text 八 (bā) 月 (yuè)]

by jackie bassett

You know he ate a broccoli

ugghh theres a fucking worm outside i cant sleep with this noise

no talking stage I pull u towards me by our red string of fate and then we kiss on the mouth