Verlassen Sind Wir Doch Wie Verirrte Kinder Im Walde. Wenn Du Vor Mir Stehst Und Mich Ansiehst, Was Weißt

Laughing way too hard at this.

Prophet like it’s hot

This time last year, I could have told you who I was, and who I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Twelve months have passed and now all I’m sure about… is that it’s December again.

rhymingtherapy, writing prompt #72, write about December (via wnq-writers)

I may be dying.

<3

I wish we’d gotten along better. I wish it would’ve been a little longer, but it seems 30 years is all it took to break me. We had an immensely exquisite time, didn’t we? I’ll always cherish it from the very bottom of my wicked heart. Adieu villainous world. ~

Writing shitty poetry and posting stupid stuff on tumblr instead of writing her. Look who’s making progress!

Love without desire, or conditions, or limits—a pure and radiant glow in the heart that could make me giddy and sad and glorious all at once. Where does it go? Why, in all their experiments, did the Magi never try to capture the purity in a bottle? Perhaps it is lost to us when we become sexual creatures, and no magic can bring it back.

Lamb - the gospel according to Biff

Me, every fucking day even though I'm getting decent grades with not too much effort. :D

It’s great.

I always liked Bill and Bobby best. <3

Action alone is thy province, never the fruits thereof; let not thy motive be the fruit of action, nor shouldst thou desire to avoid action

Mahatma Gandhi