Jonathan. 18. Senior in high school.
Gentleman by day, Philosopher by night
Pervert by choice
Rebel by fate

argyleforlife:

Lilly

(Source: abernathyed, via lights-all-faded)

michaelfromtexas:


Better Sweater

michaelfromtexas:

Better Sweater

(via life-on-the-vine)

griffinsc:

Beach

enlarging:

The biggest decision of each day is whether to keep blogging or go to bed and the first one usually wins whoops.

(Source: hvted, via itsapreppylife)

theuppitynegras:

graphitetroll:

strangeasanjles:

2cutetopuke:

A woman hitting a neo-nazi with her handbag, Sweden, 1985. The woman was reportedly a concentration camp survivor.

Good.

FUCK HIM UP


Bless her heart and soul

theuppitynegras:

graphitetroll:

strangeasanjles:

2cutetopuke:

A woman hitting a neo-nazi with her handbag, Sweden, 1985. The woman was reportedly a concentration camp survivor.

Good.

FUCK HIM UP

Bless her heart and soul

(Source: sonounsoffione, via itsapreppylife)

washingtonnationals:

This double play started with Ryan Zimmerman dodging a flying broken bat & continued by Anthony Rendon going into full extension. Seriously. 

washingtonnationals:

This double play started with Ryan Zimmerman dodging a flying broken bat & continued by Anthony Rendon going into full extension. Seriously. 

(via gentlemanfromvirginia)

You are meant to fight. When you are sick, your body fights for its right to function. When you hold your breath, your body fights for its right to breathe. There are billions of tiny events—from the surface of your skin, down to the very cells of your body—that have to happen in order for you to be simply sitting here today. If your most minuscule parts haven’t given up yet,

Why should you?”

—   

n.t. 

Yeah, why wouldn’t you?

(via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(via westcoastbestcoastgirl)

There are poems trapped inside of me.
Written on my soul.
There are paintings in my fingertips.
But I can never make them anymore
Than a whisper even I cannot hear.

But then you came and you appeared.
Raw, rough, and blistered.
Something I could understand.
But then you leaned in and you kissed me
And suddenly everything came out again.
You were a pen in my hand and the words in my mouth
Fingers, a scalpel, a pottery wheel
A paintbrush, the pigments
Everything became real

And there was color again.

What I needed, what I need
Is to feel.

Who I want, all I’ve wanted
Is you.

Be by midnight, be my blue.
Kiss me like a fool.
Be my morning, be my poppy
Be my January and June.
Be my viridian,
Be every shade of green
You are everything I’ll ever need.

You came, now I’m a flower.
But we all start as a seed.

—   a.c.g. - “You are art.” (via coffeecigarettesandkisses)

(via defendprep)