She is not “my girl.”
She belongs to herself. And I am blessed, for with all her freedom, she still comes back to me, moment-to-moment, day-by-day, and night-by-night.
How much more blessed can I be?
"I am not good. I am not virtuous. I am not sympathetic. I am not generous. I am merely and above all a creature of intense passionate feeling. I feel—everything. It is my genius. It burns me like fire."
This is very important if you’re ever in a situation similar this pretend that you’re dead don’t scream and @#!*%
my dad told us this if someone shoots up our school
PLEASE REMEMBER THIS
not even a joke we learned this in Police Explorers and put it on your clothing as well but go quickly because you don’t know where the person is.
i will never not reblog this
(Source: laharl-sama, via e-bomms-world)
I need a boyfriend so I can run my fingers through his hair and sing him to sleep. and wake him up four hours later by sucking his cock.