Free counters! georgia says you're never coming back

Ocean big as her thighs. Ocean big as her name.

metidation:

r u ever like damn i hate my body but then ur like life is an illusion i’m floatin around on a rock trapped in an orbit around a ball of flame in a vast & largely unknown universe where death is unescapable who gives a shit ???

oh my gosh will you ever post your play when you finish it?? I'd love to read it!!
asked by Anonymous

i might maybe!! it’s pretty long so maybe not? idk yet depends how i feel once i finish it (:

cool so i changed my theme for the first time in the almost 3 yrs i’ve had this blog

i’m so so so tired of my theme uqh

When the apocalypse comes, Jesus asks you to dinner. Jesus is the son of your mother’s best friend; naturally, you cannot say no. He’s five minutes late in picking you up, bites his thumb in supplication, and you want to press him against the leather seats of Jesus’ dad’s Cadillac. You’ve been on worse dates. The company’s decent, the sex phenomenal, except there is no sex and you’re left wondering why you thought there would be. This is not how you pictured the end of the world. Somewhere, a door slams. Your neighbors are filing for divorce. Jesus walks you to your door with his hand above your waist. He kisses you and time unravels, a ball of yarn torn between opposing knitting needles. Crabapples. Jesus tastes like crabapples and the final stanza of “Amazing Grace.” God calls, asks Jesus when he’ll be home. The sky is orange. At the end of your mother’s driveway, your mother’s best friend’s son’s car radio narrates the coming of the savior: This is Delilah. Avert thy mortal eyes.
Brianna Albers, “Delilah” (via lipfused)

ohkaydear:

no but imagine the rawness of slytherin feminists

officialorangejuice:

what others call a rebellious phase I call the sudden realization I don’t deserve to be treated like garabge

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