/ next page


Dear Roberta Sparrow, I have reached the end of your book and there are so many things that I need to ask you. Sometimes I'm afraid of what you might tell me. Sometimes I'm afraid that you'll tell me that this is not a work of fiction. I can only hope that the answers will come to me in my sleep. I hope that when the world comes to an end, I can breathe a sigh of relief, because there will be so much to look forward to.

~previously ap0calyptic-w0nderland~

I'm Tara and I'm 17 ok

*triggering content oops sry*

Sometimes I feel like I’m not solid. I’m hollow. There’s nothing behind my eyes. I’m a negative of a person. All I want is blackness, blackness and silence.

— Sylvia Plath (via mirroir)

(Source: theburnthatkeepseverything)

6 hours ago  -  50,519 notes
53,927 notesreblog
9,129 notesreblog
78,449 notesreblog
3,048 notesreblog
130,112 notesreblog
95,153 notesreblog


I hate it when you really need to talk to a friend about something important because you feel like your world is crashing down on you but they act like you don’t exist until their problems occur.

1 day ago  -  412,549 notes

- 90,260 notesreblog
306 notesreblog