the thing about the ultimate cosmic meaninglessness of man is that you can either wallow in your insignificance and the attendant pain that brings in a culture so obsessed with fame and being important,
or you can fall in love with literally everything and everyone in a dozen small ways because everything still exists despite the statistical unlikelihood of it all and that’s a goddamn miracle
(Source: courfeyclause, via bitter-feminist)
My ideal date would be me wearing a thick furry coat and black agent provocateur lingerie and snorting coke in an 18th century room alone.
“That’s so Raven.”
I cant shake the feeling that I could leave all the people in my life without a moments notice and not bat an eyelid. I think I’m ready to move on from this place.
yeah a boyfriend sounds nice but a supreme enemy you can make out with sometimes in secret sounds a lot more hardcore
I put my condoms on like everyone else, one leg at a time