Magic Realism
Magic Realism
I go to seek a great perhaps
If people sat outside and looked at the stars each night, I bet they’d live a lot differently. When you look into infinity, you realize there are more important things than what people do all day. Calvin and Hobbes (via icarusambition)

(via maaniboo)

334,449 notes

deersatan:

what i literally do not understand ,

is why its ok

to insult your fucking child, and then expect them to respect you, as if you treated them like they fucking deserve to be 

like no im not going to fucking admire you as a parent if you make me feel like shit

you’re supposed to bring your kids self esteem up not shatter it

(Source: asterkid, via megandinh)

352,115 notes
The longer you stare at the night sky the more stars will appear and I think that’s why I love looking at you. you are my favourite constellation (via notthestarsbutfaulted)

(via megandinh)

4,982 notes

fuckitandflee:

The real problem with books-turned-movies isn’t “omg they didn’t include every single word in the book” it’s “omg they completely overlooked the main theme, threw out any significant allegories, took away all the emotional pull, an turned it into a boring action movie with a love triangle in it”

(Source: queeralienselfies, via maaniboo)

113,210 notes

promiscuous-petal:

enough about sex positions has anyone discovered a reading position which doesn’t get uncomfortable after 5 minutes

(via my-teen-loves)

310,347 notes

adrenaline:

people needs to understand that having an opinion does not always mean you are angry, the fact you stay in silence does not mean you are coward and when you don’t like someone does not always mean you are jealous.

(via my-teen-loves)

98 notes
I always feel like I’m struggling to become someone else. Like I’m trying to find a new place, grab hold of a new life, a new personality. I guess it’s part of growing up, yet it’s also an attempt to reinvent myself. By becoming a different me, I could free myself of everything. I seriously believed I could escape myself–as long as I made the effort. But I always hit a dead end. No matter where I go, I still end up me. What’s missing never changes. The scenery may change, but I’m still the same old incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that I can never satisfy. I guess that lack itself is as close as I’ll come to defining myself. Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun (via rabbitinthemoon)

(via my-teen-loves)

5,544 notes

lill-ac:

maybe if you came and fell asleep next to me I wouldn’t be so sad

(via guy)

469,268 notes