THEME



myhouseoflego:

Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains) by Arcade Fire

These days my life I feel it has no purpose
But late at night the feelings swim to the surface

'Cause on the surface the city lights shine
They’re calling at me, come and find your kind
this song is so important to me   band: arcade fire   music   



I know their interactions are supposed to be the comic relief sort of   but I find them incredibly tragic   theatre: spring awakening   



ugh   this is still painful   film: spiderman   face: andrew garfield   



joeydeangelis:

You know we can do this, right?

this film is so rare and precious and special   film: short term 12   face: brie larson   face: johnny gallagher   




Ask a Grown Man: John Mulaney

Ask a Grown Man: John Mulaney

important   face: john mulaney   



gethenian:

prokopetz:

Today on Social Anxiety Theatre: mentally rehearsing elaborate justifications for completely innocuous actions just in case some hypothetical interlocutor demands an explanation.

Oh my god OTHER PEOPLE DO THIS TOO???

YES   I do this always and it's exhausting   anxiety tw   



Taylor Swift covering Vance Joy’s "Riptide" at the BBC Radio 1 Live Lounge (Oct 9, 2014)

(HQ version without echo or extraneous noise)

ahh I enjoy this!   face: taylor swift   music   



3am / This Is About You

alarmthestars:

We don’t speak much when we are surrounded by other people. I could blame it on insecurity, on feeling like anything I might say wouldn’t be intriguing enough or worth a second thought. But I think we both know that it’s because I don’t know how to talk to you, or at least this version of you that is dangerously desperate to please everyone around you but doesn’t quite know how.

You are willing to tear apart conversations and find yourself speaking in a voice that is unfamiliar on the small chance that you might gain approval, even though it isn’t the kind you need. Or want.

This isn’t what you want. I can see that. I think we all can see that you are clinging to the possibility that maybe things will get better when you leave this town, and maybe you will stop having to be the loudest person in the room just so you can be heard, and maybe you will understand what it means to be loved when you can finally understand why it is that people may love you.

I know you don’t see it now because you are at an age when everyone around you doesn’t yet know of a world in which the concept of “forever” doesn’t exist, but if you haven’t already you’re going to learn that happiness is not stationary, it’s a pendulum, not quite reaching one extreme or the other without being pushed outside of it’s boundaries.

What they won’t tell you is that someday you’re going to get tired of always being somewhere in the middle, and you’re going to greet your past desperation like an old friend and work together to open your skin so that you may rearrange your gears that no longer know which way they’re supposed to be turning.

I wanted to tell you that every time I see you, I think of a poem I once read late at night about a boy with needles sticking out of his exposed skin, unallowed to know what it means to hold or be held in return, even though he was filled with more love than anyone else.

I wanted to tell you that it’s frustratingly difficult to make you laugh genuinely, so it feels like a privilege when I am able to do so. I wanted to tell you that maybe, just maybe, I have put a little too much effort forth so that I could be the one to say that I caused your smile that’s one of the nicest ones I’ve seen.

I wanted to tell you that I hate when overplayed pop songs try to convince you that you are the most attractive when you are happy, but I think that’s accurate in your case, and it isn’t to say you aren’t beautiful when you’re unhappy. I wish I could stitch together your worry lines so that you may see the contellations of your thoughtfulness, the vast, complicatedness as a result of you loving too much in a space that doesn’t allow you to do so.

I wanted to tell you that maybe we are the kind of bad dreams that are worth having. I fear that you’re embarrassed by me because the only interactions we share around our friends are sideways glances of acknowledgement, and broken hugs out of unsureness of whether or not the other is willing to be held by our pin-pricked arms. But I’m going to choose to believe that it is because I am too special, that you’re
afraid, not just of the possibility of losing me but also because I see you.

I wanted to tell you that I learned long ago how to be my own anchor, how to be my own reason to get up in the morning when everyone I knew was trying to convince me that it should be because of them, even though I felt that the floor wouldn’t be there for me when I did. I don’t just take compliments with salt, I take them with oceans, and I never learned how to swim so maybe it’s true that someday I’m going to grow tired of fighting to keep my head above and eventually let being my own anchor weigh me down.

I wanted to tell you that maybe we were both born with needles in our skin, sinking deeper until only we are aware that they exist,
although it is clear that we are hurting.

I wanted to tell you that I know you are going to be just fine because the only time you don’t look afraid is when you notice my scars.

oh hey I wrote this   apparently a few people liked it so that's cool   writing   poetry   sorta   



goddamn   you're killing me smalls   face: dane dehaan   film: kill your darlings   



theboywiththefairhair:

Childish Gambino - Sober

"& now that it’s over, I’ll never be sober, I couldn’t believe, but now I’m so high.."

digging this album   still favor his mixtapes over anything   but   music