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One day it just gets better. There’s no explanation or reason why . You just wake up and you’re not angry anymore.
– Unknown   (via fawun)

(Source: un--phased, via l-ana)

Almost.
It’s a big word for me.
I feel it everywhere.
Almost home.
Almost happy.
Almost changed.
Almost, but not quite.
Not yet.
Soon, maybe.
I’m hoping hard for that.
– Joan Bauer, Almost Home  (via 691180)

(Source: larmoyante, via l-ana)

I want so much that is not here and do not know
where to go.
– Charles Bukowski, excerpt from “The Dogs of Egypt” (via perfect)

(Source: larmoyante, via holybae02)

I want things to hurt —
cigarette smoke to burn my lungs,
glass shards to cut my skin,
pavement to rasp against my knees.

I do not want beautiful;
I want a goddamn tragedy.

– Meggie C. Royer, from Tragedies (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via vivere-estvincere)

One day it just gets better. There’s no explanation or reason why . You just wake up and you’re not angry anymore.
– Unknown   (via fawun)

(Source: un--phased, via l-ana)

Almost.
It’s a big word for me.
I feel it everywhere.
Almost home.
Almost happy.
Almost changed.
Almost, but not quite.
Not yet.
Soon, maybe.
I’m hoping hard for that.
– Joan Bauer, Almost Home  (via 691180)

(Source: larmoyante, via l-ana)

wolveswolves:

By Ana Teresa Barboza 

wolveswolves:

By Ana Teresa Barboza 

(via restyourboneswithmeee)

I want so much that is not here and do not know
where to go.
– Charles Bukowski, excerpt from “The Dogs of Egypt” (via perfect)

(Source: larmoyante, via holybae02)

I want things to hurt —
cigarette smoke to burn my lungs,
glass shards to cut my skin,
pavement to rasp against my knees.

I do not want beautiful;
I want a goddamn tragedy.

– Meggie C. Royer, from Tragedies (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via vivere-estvincere)

(Source: free-your-mind)

(Source: dormdesign, via truthe)

(Source: t-atiana, via teenroyale)

(Source: vintagegal, via teenroyale)

"One day it just gets better. There’s no explanation or reason why . You just wake up and you’re not angry anymore."
"Almost.
It’s a big word for me.
I feel it everywhere.
Almost home.
Almost happy.
Almost changed.
Almost, but not quite.
Not yet.
Soon, maybe.
I’m hoping hard for that."
"I want so much that is not here and do not know
where to go."
"

I want things to hurt —
cigarette smoke to burn my lungs,
glass shards to cut my skin,
pavement to rasp against my knees.

I do not want beautiful;
I want a goddamn tragedy.

"

About:

We all go a little mad sometimes .
My name is written down in the medical records . My papers are in those manila folders .

Following: