I can already smell the gun powder. I can feel the bullet in my head. I can taste the blood. I can feel the emptiness of feeling down.
the pain in his eyes, woahthat comment just triggered me really really really fucking bad.
I JUST WANT TO BE ABLE TO GET NICE TATTOOS AND TRAVEL AND GO TO LOADS OF CONCERTS AND MEET NEW PEOPLE AND VISIT AMAZING PLACES AND COSY COFFEE SHOPS AND ADOPT CUTE PUPPIES AND SLEEP IN THE BACK OF A TRUCK WITH A PLETHORA OF BLANKETS AND STAR GAZE AND TAKE PICTURES OF NICE THINGS AND JUST NOT CARE ABOUT ANYTHING
I simply cannot get comfortable. I’m hot and I’m cold and I’m sleepy and I’m not. Someone come cuddle me and make me feel better.
a jack barakat has just been spotted in his natural habitat