we are the casualties of architects.
Read a book. Ride a bike. Create music. Look at the stars.
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2011-12-03 27 notes
Source: angrywhistler
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2011-11-17 0 notes
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2011-11-05 Notes
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How?
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154,162 notes
just what i was looking for!
(via ccal)
Source: ccal
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2011-11-04 0 notes
Can I tell you all the wonderful things about me?
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I’m a narcissist. Narcissists don’t love themselves; they don’t know themselves. I love an image. There is no real me. There is only who I think I should be in order for people to like me. I lack a sense of satisfaction from life and love. I only feel good when people tell me I am good. When I am admired, I feel unrivaled joy and ecstasy. And between the praise and admiration, I feel nothing at all. Every once in a while, there is a fleeting something that I cannot exactly identify. I think it is me. But it always escapes my grasp and evades my intellect. Vast oceans of pain swim beneath my still and pretty facade. I’d love to cross these oceans, to bridge the gap, to conquer the divide. There is greener grass on the other side. I’d love to sail for over there.
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