chica cherry cola lime

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miranda, 18, canada.


eet // regina spektor

you spend half of your life trying to fall behind
you’re using your headphones to drown out your mind
it was so easy and the words so sweet
you can’t remember, you try to move your feet

(via gif)

— 1 day ago with 3318 notes

served at a wedding today and got to watch 80 year old couples dancing to brown eyed girl like no one else was around

came home and found out one of my school friends from this year just got engaged to her boyfriend of only 6 months, but they seem perfect for each other

as much as i’m bitter about always being single sometimes seeing people so happy makes me forget that entirely 

— 2 days ago


boys are so boring and dull and so fucking empty they make me dull and boring and empty i’m better than all of them no offense

— 2 days ago with 14 notes
"The self-portrait: Swallowing glass chips to stay interesting. Keeping my insides cut so at least something comes out when I open my mouth. Spitting up blood. Calling it poetry. Calling it a performance. Calling it everything but what it is. Self-deprecation for the sake of humility. Self-dissolution to keep them guessing. Playing the same game until it stops becoming one. Turning tricks until they become habit. Here are some jokes I’ve made so many times they’ve lost their punchline: Texting late at night, check. Bleeding dirty thoughts and regret. Throwing up and forgetting the mess. Getting thin out of pure neglect. Check. Check. Check. This isn’t a way to grow up, but what else is there? Nice house? Nice car? Nice mouth? Nice girl? Wait. Didn’t you used to be such a nice girl? (I stole that line right out of the mouth of the concerned aunt who gave me a once-over last Christmas.) Let’s try this again. Nice girl. Nice girls don’t stay out late. They don’t forget their friends. They don’t drop everything and move for the sake of adventure. Nice girls don’t lie in the middle of the street and call it therapy. They don’t know how to become ghosts in two seconds flat. Nice girl. What happened to her? Killed her. Cursed her. Kept her hungry in the basement for so long that she gave up and went home. Pushed her aside and cared for poetry, coffee, and burnt curtains instead. Nice girl. Why don’t you call her up again? Ask her where she’s been? Ah, but where’s the fun in that?"
The Self-Portrait | Lora Mathis 
It’s good fun writing like you’re insane  (via lora-mathis)

(via idiotgirlchild)

— 5 days ago with 2167 notes


Hello Notes by Grace Ann Leadbeater

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— 5 days ago with 2812 notes