the drawing always looks better before its ‘finished’
goddamn it
Anonymous: Sorry to say this, but this man is really nasty. Why don't your mom leave him?
no i know he is, to me anyway. but maybe because i havent met that many people. and my mum keeps on saying that when i grow up i’ll fal in love differently and not with a ‘perfect’ man and yeah, idek. because she loves him probably and hes the only person shes been with for that long since my dad died (15 years ago), and if eel obliged to always feel happy for her because of the fact she was alone for so long but i dont which then makes me feel bad but then again i wish she never met him.
macbeth and romeo&juliet assesement tommorow
but i dont know how to revise
but i really want a high mark
what do i do???????????? 
there’s a boy in few of my classes that looks like james franco when he smiles, and in fact if his hair was a bit longer or curly he’d look exactly like a young james franco and i have to stop myself from staring at him all the way throughout a lesson without loooking really creepy.
but
omg
"I think it’s great for two people to be together. That is a good number. I think, that to keep it alive though, you can’t spend every day together. It wears out the magic, Love means nothing to me if it’s not fortified with fierce, painful longing, brief explosive instances of furious passion and intimacy and then a sad parting for a time. In that way, you can give your life to it and still have a life of your own. I think some couples spend too much time together. They flatten out the potential for experience by constant closeness. Passion builds over time like steam. Let it rage until it’s exhausted and then leave it alone to let it build up again. Why can’t love be insane and distorted? How can it be vital if it has the same threshold as normal day-to-day experience? Why can’t you write burning letters and let your nocturnal self smolder with desire for one who is not there? Why not let the days before you see her be excruciating and ferment in your mind so on the day you go to the airport to pick her up, you’re nearly sick with anticipation? And then when desire shows the first sign of contentment, throw it back it its cage and let it slowly build itself back into a state of starved fury. Then when you are together, it all matters. So that when you look into her eyes, you lose your balance, so that when she touches you, it feels like you have never been touched before. When she says your name, you think it was she who named you. When she has gone, you bury your face in the pillow to smell her hair and you lie awake at night remembering your face in her neck, her breathing and the amazing smell of her skin. Your eyes go wet because you want her so bad and miss her so much. Now that is worth the miles and the time. That matches the inferno of life. Otherwise you poison each other with your presence day after day as you drag each other through the inevitable mundane aspects of your lives. That is the slow death that I see slapped on faces everywhere I go. It’s part of the world’s sadness that’s more empty than cold, poorly lit rooms in cities of the American night."
— Henry Rollins (via intiniermoments)
(Source: prozacrock, via iloveyoulessthanpunk)
