(via cxlifornians)
(via odervnt)
(via impractical-trash)
I race up the stairs, the meeting is on the fourth floor. And around the third floor I’m passing the photos of The Rolling Stones, The Beatles and every band you love. Suddenly I stop and I’m like, what are you doing? You’re late, you shouldn’t stop right now.
(via izabellaxox)
concept: u and i go to the aquarium for our first date. u are nervous as u try to hold my hand. but u accidentally knock the cracker out of my hand because ur a piece of shit and u don’t use ur eyes. there goes my damn cracker. look what u have done. i run away screaming and never return ur phone calls. it’s been three years and u still write to me occasionally but i never answer. where is my cracker
(via izabellaxox)