Son…when I was your age, people slept inside giant containers called “houses.”
(via bjorksandyorks)
laying naked with my cat. it has been awhile.
I wish I was an artist. I wish the touch of my hands produce something besides the purr of a cat.
can you please tell me how to make art with my hands? please make me beautiful & hopefully this time let it not stem from the depth of my sorrow and fears.
(Source: nationalgeographicscans, via cosmicspread)
apesar de todo, mas que nada, extrano tu amistad. cuanto me gustaria platicar contigo. pero ya no estas. hoy y simpre tengo que vivir con la triste verdad que tu amigo, has desaparecido.
i never been surrounded by so much beauty & hope. if only you had stuck around….
no one could understand me the way the you would, but then again it was just a theory to you, a belief that was only good in theory. Perhaps, you still see me as the naive girl.