Leave me alone to die.


My mom was super anxious about letting people hold me when I was younger, as I was her first-born, so she didn’t let anybody who wasn’t my her, my dad, and my older sister hold me. But my dad liked to travel a lot, so while we were in mexico, and I was a few months old, my mom let a woman hold me while she ate. 

so basically the first person to hold me outside my immediate family was a random lady in Mexico.

Mr. Tock’s Broken Clock Shop

We Won’t Give You The Time Of Day


My boyfriend had to use my debit card to pay for a few things at the store because his dad forgot to transfer money to his account. He promised he would get the money to me soon.

Later on I asked him how soon he thought he might be able to pay me back. He promised again that he would pay me back in full.

"Maybe we could settle this debt…I’m some other way?" I say seductively dragging my nails down his back and grinning suggestively.

"Oh? Okay!" He says smiling big.

"Sike, I want my money, bitch." I say smirking as I walk away.

Found this photo of a guy cutting cranberries in my text book, and captioned it appropriately.

Found this photo of a guy cutting cranberries in my text book, and captioned it appropriately.

got way to into an assignment (looks really nice in high-res)

got way to into an assignment (looks really nice in high-res)

We burned Kyle’s socks. (Also I failed to turn my phone when I recorded the video so slay me.)

"looking at pictures of your boyfriend/girlfriend as a kid is kind of weird because you come to the realization that this smiling/awkward kid grew up and now you want to have sex with them."

me thinking at 2:30 am

A message to freshmen going into high school:

After the first couple of weeks fly by in a colourful, dizzying whirl of over-priced outfits, strangling smell of Axe body spray, and burnt hair curls, there is a short period of self-discovery as you are forced into a place- or lack thereof- in high school and then all at once you are slapped in the face by the harsh reality that you’re going to be at this school, with these people for the next four years—

*deep breath*

you’re probably going to want to take up heaving drinking and/or hard drugs to numb the suffocating sadness of crushed individuality, and hopeless dreams. It would be my advice to avoid doing this if possible, because the thing is: eventually you will graduate (assuming you didn’t screw everything up) and it will all be over sooner than you think. The once debilitating feelings of anguish and longing for freedom will instantly be replaced by a certain joy and peace unable to be overshadowed by anything, as you walk up those steep steps to receive the ticket out of hell. A diploma.

So honestly, the best advice I would give you is to do what you think is right, don’t start anything you can’t finish, and try to hold onto who you are. You’re gonna lose friends, and get bad grades, and some days you’re just going to want to stay in bed all day and cry into a pillow. But trust me, when it’s all over, you’ll be so glad that you’re out of there that it makes every moment worth it. It’s not all bad, and a lot of it has to do with attitude.  


when jesus comes back im gonna instagram that so hard.