Soflo 🌞
19 💋
July 23rd 14 · 217,627 notes


i love car rides so much that i actually get disappointed when we reach our destination

(Source: cherryblazerr, via euph0ria-b0und)

July 23rd 14 · 757 notes
When you have a broken heart, the first thing a stranger will ask is ‘how long were you two together?’ As if your pain can be determined by how long you were with someone. Or if you were with them at all. I don’t think that’s how it works. I think unrequited love is just as valid as any other kind. It’s just as crushing and just as thrilling. Taylor Swift (via taylorsvift)

(via holyground13)

July 23rd 14 · 393,687 notes



how did the telephone propose to his girlfriend?

he gave her a ring image

(Source: unrellevahnt, via medic4tingperfection)

July 23rd 14 · 49,571 notes
If she only wants you, don’t worry about who wants her (via gloomyteenagers)

(Source: gold-kushkloudz, via holyground13)

July 23rd 14 · 193,824 notes
People will love you. People will hate you. And none of it will have anything to do with you. Abraham Hicks (via drapetomania)

(Source: fandhm, via holyground13)

July 23rd 14 · 219,892 notes

July 23rd 14 · 187,948 notes
I no longer have the energy for meaningless friendships, forced interactions or unnecessary conversations. (via rimu)


(via dolphinity)

(Source: a--failure, via dolphinity)

July 23rd 14 · 7,124 notes
Respect people who find time for you in their busy schedule, but love people who never look at their schedule when you need them. Unknown (via eumag)

(Source: plainboy, via xbrewerx)

July 23rd 14 · 7,747 notes
I learned the hard way that I cannot always count on others to respect my feelings - even if I respect theirs. Being a good person doesn’t guarantee that others will be good people. You only have control over yourself and how you choose to be as a person. As for others, you can only choose to accept them or walk away. (via motelstyles)

(Source: onlinecounsellingcollege, via xbrewerx)

July 23rd 14 · 10,527 notes
Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.
A Good Day (Kait Rokowski)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via xbrewerx)