1. (Source: rlyhigh, via letsgetoutoftown)

  2. s-ensitivus:

    now, don’t say good bye 

    (Source: d-e-s-t-r-o-y-e-r, via s0wnbones)

  3. - one thing I hate about growing up -

    welcometocreepsville:

    Guy friends. Guys who are literally just friends. Not “friend zoned” guys, because I don’t believe in that shit, but DUDES THAT I CHILL WITH AND NEITHER OF US CARE ABOUT THE D IN THE V. Those guys. Yeah, they get ladies in their lives who want the d in their v and then I never get to see them…

    Sadly enough, we live in Georgia. State that has not processed at all. Men are “supposed” to take priority on the woman he is courting. In tern, the woman needs to be a “proper lady” consisting on looks, spending fuck ton of money on shit just to say you have them, and various other luxuries “needed” that unconsciously expresses power, status, and wealth. Considering I live in an area like that, and come from a polar opposite background, I think its fair to say that you have every right be frustrated and not be in the wrong. Let those fools look down at you. At the end of the day, you are moving your simple and happy lifestyle. Carefree from maxed out cards, etc. While I do realize that it sounds like I am describing a stereo type, I want to reiterate that I live in such an area. An area where I have been banned from people’s house due to race, economic status, etc. All in all, fuck the state of Georgia.

    (via welcometocreepsville-deactivate)

  4. http://www.cnn.com/2011/09/29/opinion/valencia-racism-latino/

  5. http://welcometocreepsville.tumblr.com/post/90454521443/i-have-so-much-on-my-mind-right-now-results-about

    welcometocreepsville:

    I have so much on my mind right now. Results about my acceptance into the local college are first and foremost on the list; the anxiety is killing me yet I know they’ll take their time - I also know that unless there is a technicality, I will get in. My job is another thing I’m worried about. I’m…

    (via welcometocreepsville-deactivate)

  6. Ugh. I fucking hate lonesome nights. God damn it.

  7. (Source: jazzedoodles, via poet-ics)