My sweet little chamomile

My sweet little chamomile

i sleep with a one-eyed teddy bear every night. i love dark things, nature, chocolate, music, art, the moon and my Benjamin<3

i hate how the weekend doesn’t actually count until like Saturday because you work all day Friday, clean Friday night and then sleep and then you wake up on Saturday like mannn tomorrow is the last day of the weekend.. sucks.


Do you ever have that moment when a kid is looking at you and you realize that they’re looking at you as a grown up? Then its like no child im a children too, dont. Im sorry my outward appearance confuses you.

(via deliriumdecadence)

Franz Kafka to Milena (via man-of-prose)

(via deliriumdecadence)

In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.


Emo Problem #826-
When the wind blows your side bangs back, and you see everyone you hate, with both eyes

(via kiritokitty)

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers (via freyjageist)

(Source: saltandsteel, via existentialmist)

There is some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.


how can peach and mario just like casually play tennis with the giant dinosaur turtle monster who is always threatening both of their lives? they all just set aside their pasts to have a good old game of tennis? also did bowser raise bowser jr. himself? is bowser a good father?

(via croatoan-queen)

am kennedy, “Storytellers & Spellcasters” (via pinkeyesandcherrypie)

(Source: siilentiary, via pinkeyesandcherrypie)

Stories are important
Because some children
Grow up where there are
No happy endings,
And they don’t know what
Family, love, kindness,
Looks like in practice.
Stories have hope
Sewn into their spines,
Pages of escapism,
Where characters breathe,
Learn how to heal,
Escape from bad homes,
And open up to those
Who handle them gently.
Stories are important
To every child that
Grows up in the dark
And wants to believe
There’s still magic enough
To spark some light.

Random kid in my ghetto neighbourhood telling this other kid how he felt about his corn rolls.

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