Remember When You'd Turn On The Radio And Almost Always Poker Face Was Playing

dissecting the daughter, by me.

poets are always writing about their moms. i’m no different. there are so many metaphors for her, i had to fight to cling to that knife. guess that’s inherited, too.

Yknow the funniest part is that Supernatural sounds like a shitty Destiel fic. There have been a ton of times where I’m like oh that was a fanfic, and then I find a screenshot reminding me that it’s canon. Like I’m sorry “I don’t know what’s real anymore.” “We are.” Bitch that’s gayer than saying ILY!!

barry? more like BARRY your gays!

(in tears) next year i will have so much fun!

my writing is *starts new fanfic* *posts one chapter* *starts new show* *starts new fanfic* *abandon old one* *posts one chapter* *starts ne

“confront your fears. how do you feel about two women / two men: kissing, smooching, fucking, making love? and why are you so concerned?” a poster on a mailbox photographed in the east village, new york city by sarah rosenbaum, 1992

HOW DID THIS FLOP HARDER THAN THE LAST POST 💔

“I believe in a lot of things. Hope. Prayer. We all have our own way of seeking comfort.”

As promised, a little Castiel candid from my Stanford era college AU, This Gentle Sin! If you’ve read it, trust that the rest of his walls have just as many artifacts, if not more-- and if you haven’t, well! I’d be happy to have you! 💛

drew a very basic castiel for my stanford era fic, this gentle sin! our boy is tired. mainly because of his stupid ass future boyfriend (who i also drew!).

Simone de Beauvoir, from Diary of a Philosophy Student: Volume 1, 1926-27

Text ID: I observe how much I have matured since last year despite my belief that I was losing myself, how something strong was born from the painful experiences survived and from the numerous minutes that I believed were wasted.