I try to laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
‘Cause boys don’t cry…
Boys don’t cry.
a group of weasels can be called a confusion
it is a confusion of baby weasels
Oh sweet fuzzy babies!
When I met you, flowers started growing in the darkest parts of my mind.
|—||Unknown (via psych-facts)|
While looking for the light, you may suddenly be devoured by the darkness and find the true light.
Jack Kerouac, The Scripture Of The Golden Eternity (via loveage-moondream)
…i fucking hate Kerouac, but i like this.