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I wish I could be one of those people that likes change and welcome it when it hits me square across the face but i’m just not,and i don’t know if ever will be. It’s not like i’m even happy about current and past life conditions and i know its my responsibility to be happy and life’s what you make it blah blah blah but its all I’ve ever known and i don’t even know where to start to make it better or if i really care to. All my friends are leaving and i’m terrible at making new friends, my best friend in the entire world is dying, I’m expected to act like an adult while I’m treated like a 12 year old and honestly, I just want to cry most of the time. i find change exciting and invigorating in theory but terrifying in practice. There’s a reason why I’ve had the same URL for almost 3 years and same favorite band since 4th grade. But seeing as nothing ever lasts forever i guess i’m really gonna have to grip the bull by its horns or just wither away to oblivion. 


if you see me laughing while texting there’s a 99.9% chance i’m laughing at a text message i sent because i’m equal parts vain and hilarious

(via is-this-the-only-url-not-taken)

my family: skinny people are gross.
my family: fat people are gross
my family: self harm-ers are gross
my family: suicide is gross
my family: mental illnesses are gross
my family: homosexuals are gross
my family: oh, but we won't judge you. you can tell us anything.
me: lol no i'm fine thanks.

(Source: fifthharmony, via frigginwinchesters)


they say we’re to young now to amount to anything else

13/? of Karen Gillan


u kno when u hav many thing to do so u lay on the floor for long time

(via hi)


you & i


you kids today with your texting and murder

(via hi)


Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”
On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”. 
Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes. I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was. 
This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.