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Time to Change
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Small and miniature oil paintings by Jessica Gardner

(via dajo42)

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via hadaes)

(Source: iczarly, via high-on-hope3)

But it has finally hit me: she is neither a concept nor a symbol nor a metaphor. she actually exists: she has warm flesh and a spirit that moves. I never should have lost sight of that warmth and that movement.

To My Best Friend, inkbleedingdreams (via inkbleedingdreams)

I can’t leave you behind
And I’m mad
I’m afraid
I’m in despair
Because of what
You’ve done to you
So skinny I can see your ribs
Where’d it go?
Stomach barely holds food
Anymore. Any more
Pills you swallow,
You’ll be dead
I know that
Don’t think you do;
If you do, fuck you
I can’t walk away
Anyway. Any way
You look at it
I’ll be around
Because you haunt me
I scream in my sleep
At least you’re sleeping well
With all the drugs
You’ve tossed down
Knock back the bottle
Who needs a liver?
Who needs to live?
I’ll see you in Hell
Because I know I’ll go
Know I’m damned
For not saving you
Not saving you from you
When I could
If I could
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