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serialstranger
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 05:44pm
That's All She Wrote.
Archive/Ask
Amateur/wannabe photographer. Two cats + strays. OCD and Trichotillomania.
LIKE: Hard alcohol, Nos energy drinks, Marlboro Red. Reading, writing, and roleplaying.
Photography. All things horror, macabre, and gory. Collecting lighters. True crime.
LOVE: Sean Patrick Flanery. Norman Reedus. The Boondock Saints. The Walking Dead.
This page is mostly for random pictures, quotes, music I like, and various edits and sigtags I make.
Some posts may be not safe for work. The majority of content does not belong to me.
However, if it's something I've made, please ask before use.
My dear,
I don’t know what to do today, help me decide.
Should I cut myself open and pour my heart on these pages? Or should I sit here and do nothing, nobody’s asking anything of me afterall.
Should I jump off the cliff that has my heart beating so and develop my wings on the way down? Or should I step back from the edge, and let the others deal with this thing called courage.
Should I stare back at the existential abyss that haunts me so and try desperately to grab from it a sense of self? Or should I keep walking half-asleep, only half-looking at it every now and then in times in which I can’t help doing anything but?
Falsely yours,
Albert Camus
The Stranger, Albert Camus
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serialstranger
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 05:50pm
People think of hearts when they think of love, but a heart is a bloody organ in the body. It doesn’t have any emotions. It’s like a metaphor for love that has nothing to do with what love actually is.
E. Lockhart, Fly on the Wall: How One Girl Saw Everything
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serialstranger
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 05:45pm
I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
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serialstranger
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 05:43pm
God, it was good to let go, let the tight mask fall off, and the bewildered, chaotic fragments pour out. It was the purge, the catharsis.
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
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serialstranger
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 05:41pm
Hyperbole and a Half posted again, and everyone needs to read it because:
- If you are depressed, it will resonate with you like whoa.
- If you are not depressed, it will clarify some stereotypes about depression that need to be said. An explanation like this has been needed for a LONG time.
- If you know someone who is depressed, you’ll be better at interacting with them after reading this.
yah.
(via oldmanrenkas)
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 05:26pm
Ryan Gosling won’t eat his cereal
[ryanwmchenry]
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jensensations
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 05:08pm
Title: 3 A.M.
Artist: Gregory Alan Isakov
1,504 plays
Give me darkness when I’m dreaming, give me moonlight when I’m leaving,
Give me shoes that weren’t made for standing.
Give me treeline, give me big sky, give me snowbound,
Give me rainclouds, give me bedtime just sometimes.
Typical Isakov.Classic.
djmase
(via penhalloweves)
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djmase
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 05:02pm
I felt a tremendous distance between myself and everything real.
Hunter S. Thompson
(via nightxblooming)
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honeysighs
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 05:00pm
i would absolutely punch a younger version of myself in the face
(via oldmanrenkas)
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urbancatfitters
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 04:58pm
(◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿)
(◕‿◕✿) i am (◕‿◕✿)
(◕‿◕✿) going to fucking (◕‿◕✿)
(◕‿◕✿) murder you (◕‿◕✿)
(◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿)
(via oldmanrenkas)
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hittxmattt
1 week ago on May 11, 2013 at 04:52pm
