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aloverofloving

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2yung2lean:

sweet-deer:

aunteeblazer:

groudon:

i like this but i don’t fully understand it…

whoa

you don’t understand how sad this is. each adult is a cross, and each child has been crucified by said cross. 

  • the priest (i assume he’s a priest, correct me if i’m wrong) killed the little boy in one way or another, probably rape, which is common among corrupted clergy men. 
  • the tourist comes to an overcrowded, poverty stricken country, taking up any and all resources that could have gone to the little native girl
  • the soldier comes to fight for his country, but ends up killing the innocent girl, probably in her village.
  • the little boy dies under the doctor’s knife
  • the man kills the little girl in a school shooting (represented with the uniform)
  • the “fat” kid is killed by obesity caused by a fast food epidemic in america, most commonly mcdonald’s, shown by ronald mcdonald himself. 

this is /haunting/ to look at. children can die at anyone’s hand. even the “heros”

to sweet-deer,(i’m not 100% sure either) the tourist picture is representing tourism to countries to have sex with underage children. in thailand, this is a very big deal and large problem, as well in other countries.  

the doctor one is representing illegal organ harvesting. such as sale on the black market (which explains the cooler in the corner). children are easy targets to this business. I hope I cleared some confusion up, as well.

(Source: sssleepyhead, via heckyeaweloveinterracialcouples)

The first time I saw her..
Everything in my head went quiet.
All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared.

When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments.

Even in bed, I’m thinking:

Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes.
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes.

But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips..
Or the eyelash on her cheek—
the eyelash on her cheek—
the eyelash on her cheek.

I knew I had to talk to her.

I asked her out six times in thirty seconds.

She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going.

On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or talking to her..
But she loved it.

She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times at different times of the day.

She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk.

When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely lock the door eighteen times.

I’d always watch her mouth when she talked—
when she talked—
when she talked—
when she talked;
when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges.

At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off.
She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her.

But then.. She said I was taking up too much of her time.

That I couldn’t kiss her goodbye so much because I was making her late for work..

When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line..

When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking..

And last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place.

She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but..

How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touch her?

Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t.

I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her.

Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin.
I see myself crushed my an endless succession of cars..
And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on.

I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel..
How she turns shower knobs like she opening a safe.

How she blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out—….

Now, I just think about who else is kissing her.

I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once—he doesn’t care if it’s perfect!

I want her back so bad..

I leave the door unlocked.

I leave the lights on.

—    Neil Hilborn, “OCD” (via pigmenting)

(via aloverofloving)

Remember me

Remember me, if anything.

I want you to suffer from the agony of never having me,

As you look back and wish for love

Fall for your type

I’m always falling for people after a only a few months of knowing them. I don’t know what people expect when they see you everyday, call you every night, and make you feel that way you only feel when you’re about to be in love. If you’re someone who has been a part of my everyday life,  I’m going to fall for you, I’m going to love you hard, I’m going to miss it when we don’t talk and worry when I don’t see you and it’s not fair to expect anything less. 

His imperfections are my obsessions

(Source: a-day-to-dream)

Time on my hands since you been away boy #musicformysoul #selfies #bored