nic0tine-kisses
riseafterfalling:

late night sad poem.
riseafterfalling
Round Pegs & Square Holes

poemfortheday:

You can feel it,
pinching your skin
messing your hair
weighing on shoulders,
you don’t quite belong here
this just isn’t the fit.

It’s not quite round pegs
and square holes,
it’s jumping from one to the next
testing the infinite variety
of a city, a country, a world
looking for your own mark.

Some doors lead to stages
others into cages
pulling and slamming them
across every mark of the compass
looking for the right pile
to sort yourself into
the great adventure to get settled.

poemfortheday
wordsareourmost
fishingboatproceeds:

edwardspoonhands:

ka-blamo:

Is benedict cumberbatch unintentionally doing the vlog brothers sign here?

What is happening…where is this from…people don’t just UNINTENTIONALLY do the Nerdfighter sign…either he was told to do this or…or…

OR HE IS A NERDFIGHTER, HANK. (Source.)
ka-blamo
zapbird:

this is important
facebook.com

shedisenchants:

shedisenchants:

so every year after the juniors finish reading The Great Gatsby my high school english teacher throws a Gatsby party at his huge house and everyone shows up in period clothing and Charlestons to 20s music and my english teacher just wears a suit and stands off to the side staring wistfully out the window the entire night

you guys think I’m joking??

image

shedisenchants
"I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness." Franz Kafka (via sickur)
greatauthorquotes
gowke
aseaofquotes:

Nick Hornby, About a Boy
scarsofwars
incredishelby
cherry-and-also-bomb:

♡♡♡
youjustyou
des-ire
ruinedchildhood
»
It was the best of times,it was the worst of times
It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil in the superlative degree of comparison only.
-Charles Dickens
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