bloom


robby//19//confused

asylum-art:

Enrique Baeza

Saatchi Art |Facebook

(via andsallycantdance)

cradily:

i dont care if its ariana grande this song replenishes my life force

(via adeepersensibility)

(via queerkiddo)

(Source: greysgifs, via queerkiddo)

It’s never, never, never the woman’s fault. No man has a right to raise a hand to a woman. No means no. […] The one regret I have is we call it domestic violence as if it’s a domesticated cat. It is the most vicious form of violence there is, because not only the physical scars are left, the psychological scars that are left. This whole culture for so long has put the onus on the woman. What were you wearing? What did you say? What did you do to provoke? That is never the appropriate question.

Joe Biden on Today this morning (h/t Joy)

(Source: fullcredit, via ifiwroteyouasong)


(Source: strongbootygame, via fuckourdreams)

callipygiian:

pussy put his ass to sleep now he callin me nyquil

callipygiian:

pussy put his ass to sleep now he callin me nyquil

(Source: americanhorrorstorycaps, via coochiepebble)

ridingsheepinnewzealand:

lizzie doesnt fuck around

ridingsheepinnewzealand:

lizzie doesnt fuck around

(Source: leahlynn, via rapi)

(Source: outcoming, via ifiwroteyouasong)

You most likely need a thesaurus, a rudimentary grammar book, and a grip on reality. This latter means: there’s no free lunch. Writing is work. It’s also gambling. You don’t get a pension plan. Other people can help you a bit, but ­essentially you’re on your own. ­Nobody is making you do this: you chose it, so don’t whine.
From Margaret Atwood’s 10 Rules of Writing, via Brainpickings (via bostonpoetryslam)