I fucking love wearing your plaid shirt because I can smell your prepossessing scent in it. It helps me feel more relaxed, like I’m home. Too bad I have to return it the day after tomorrow.

I fucking love wearing your plaid shirt because I can smell your prepossessing scent in it. It helps me feel more relaxed, like I’m home. Too bad I have to return it the day after tomorrow.

Photo spam. Wag niyo na pansinin yung namumulang ilong ni Jc. Hahahaha.

chelle-the-zbornak-queen:

i won’t lie

i am in fact an “attention whore”

i need to feel like i actually matter to people

i need to feel like i’m not a totally horrible person

i need to feel like there are people who love me

because i’m certainly not gonna do it myself

Saw this house floor plans and just fell in love (especially dun sa una). Ang gaganda :—( putangina one day!!!!!! One day talaga!!!!!

Bago ako magsimula magaral para sa dalawang quiz at midterms ko bukas, kkwento muna ko. Kasi!!! Kahapon, napagdesisyunan ko na bumili ng journal. Paminsan talaga ang impulsive ko. Yung magustuhan o maisipan lang, gagawin talaga. So ayun nga. Kanina, pumunta kami ni Jc sa SM Sta. Mesa and yay nakabili na ko journal!!! Yung mejo mura lang nabili ko KASI NAMAN LAHAT NG NASA NBS PURO RULED KAHIT YUNG MGA NASA 300+ eh ang gusto ko yung blank lang!!! Bumili din ako ng stickers tsaka paper sheets na cute sa Papemelroti! Balak ko sana isulat dun lahat ng ayoko ilabas dito sa blog tapos gagawin ko din pala yung mga journal art na lagi ko nakikita dito. Tignan nyo na lang yung mga nirereblog ko sa saffrondaisies! Nakatag yun as Journal Art. NakaIpad kasi ako kaya di ko malink haha. Anyway!!! Excited na ko! At kailangan ko na magreview!

Is there a way to pick all these words up under my tongue and simply hand them over to you? Words like love and petals and hands. Sentences like You have the ocean inside you, that’s why your tears are salty when you cry. Your hands are the only ones I’d ever hold; the wildflowers I’ve grown to love. Baby, you are both the sun and the rain living in my spine. Would you please throw out that umbrella? I’d pluck all the stars in my eyes and make you a map when you’re lost in the dark. I’d live with you in the shadows if that’s what you want. Trace my collarbones and you’ll find your name engraved in them. Open up my ribcages and you’ll see a part of you I’ve surreptitiously taken. Kiss me like your mouth is thirsty for the rain and I’ll pour all these words down your throat so I wouldn’t have to say them.
R.M., There are ghosts in my mouth (via pathofthesky)

Kailangan ko na talaga ng bagong journal notebook. Mas kumportable ako isulat at ilabas dun lahat. Kinakati na ko magsulat ang dami ko gustong sabihin. Bibili ako bukas tangina bahala na kung wala na naman akong pera haist.

She was too quiet, or she was too loud. She took things too seriously, or not seriously at all. She was too sensitive, or too cold-hearted. She hated with every fiber of her being, or loved with every piece of her heart. There was no in-between for her. It was either all or nothing. She wanted everything but settled for nothing.
(via incoloure)
Just for future reference, don’t use words like “love” anymore. It’s a very sensitive word and it wears out quickly. Romeo barely says it, but John Hinckley filled up a whole journal with it. To put it into your terms, it’s a currency that’s easily devalued. Pretty soon you’re saying it whenever you hang up the phone or whenever you leave. It turns into an apology. Then it’s an excuse. Some assholes want it to be a bulletproof vest: don’t hate me; I love you. But mostly it just means—more. More, more—give me something more. A couple of years from now, when you’re on your own completely, if you really fall in love, if it really comes to that—and I pity you if it does—you have to look right down into the black of her eyes, right down into the emptiness in there and feel everything, absolutely everything she needs and you have to be willing to drown in it, Kevin. You’d have to want to be crushed, buried alive. Because that’s what real love feels like—choking. They used to bury some women in their wedding dresses, you know. I thought it was because all those husbands were too cheap to spring for another gown, but now it makes sense: love is your first foot in the grave. That’s why the second most abused word is “forever”.
Hot Plastic (Peter Craig)