Cat:
Me: are you mcgonagall
Cat:
What you really said: I think serial killers are interesting.
What they think you said: I'm going to become a serial killer and murder all of you in the most brutal way possible and then use your heads as lamp shades and cook your livers for a nice tasty snack.
I pull weird faces in photos because it’s better to look ugly on purpose
(via fatpeoplemakemehappy)
Third Star
I can’t accept it. No, no matter how horrible the pain was- he got a life. Living people has a chance. A chance to change. Don’t throw it away. Please. I beg you.
How does it feel to watch your friend die? Carry his body to the shore? Does people just move on after that? How?
Sorry, I just can’t handle suicide.
me: hi
2 seconds later
me: why didn't they reply oh my god do they hate me this is all my fault why do i suck so much i'm so needy and weird and i hate everything i'm never talking to anybody again
who came up with the idea of clowns
who thought they’d be good at children’s parties
who thought they’d be good anywhere
the way I type on tumblr: omfdgd lololol rkejwhlkjdhlwkjerhwer I can't evEN WITH THESE FEELS MAN
the way I write for class: under this assumption, it is safe to dictate in a clear and particularly concise way that the author not only felt the need to illustrate the background surrounding the mortifying, yet tragic, action that pushes forward the engaging plot, but also the background of the reader's very own heart.
me after running for one minute: i'm still alive, but i'm barely breathing
