You and Me and My Dopamine Levels: Archive

“It’s just that I coulda swore
you had sung me a love song back there
and that you meant it
but I guess some people just chew with their mouth open” —Buddy Wakefield (via clementinevonradics)

Jun 19, 2013882 notes

Jun 19, 2013163 notes

Sometimes, retrospect can really fuck you in the ass.

Jun 19, 2013

Jun 18, 2013200 notes

Jun 18, 20131,674 notes

“Where does a thought go when it’s forgotten?” —Sigmund Freud (via psych-quotes)

Jun 18, 201396,990 notes

“We wear clothes, and speak, and create civilizations, and believe we are more than wolves. But inside us there is a word we cannot pronounce and that is who we are.” —Anthony Marra, A Constellation of Vital Phenomena (via larmoyante)

Jun 18, 201312,309 notes

Jun 18, 2013151 notes

Jun 17, 20132,889 notes

Jun 17, 2013723 notes

Jun 17, 2013397 notes

Jun 17, 2013308 notes

Jun 17, 20131,239 notes

Play

Jun 17, 20131,243 notes

Jun 17, 2013514 notes

Jun 17, 20137,913 notes

I reject sponsored tumblr ads.
VH1?! What is this shit?

Jun 17, 2013

Jun 16, 201348,102 notes

“Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks even on the house he’s never visited. You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona, but not nearly so arid. Don’t wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes, your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them. You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic. Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and five cranberries. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.” —Frida Kahlo (via boogeywoman)

Jun 16, 201313,302 notes

Jun 16, 2013303 notes