So after high school everyone got skinny and good looking. Found people to love and are happy but me? I stayed fat lost the girl I loved and am spiraling into depression. It’s not for lack of trying though. I exercise, I eat decently I’m a fairly okay person at the very least I’m not a creep. I try to better my life but it leads nowhere I’ve been at this for so long I don’t even have anyone to vent to. Such cruel times. Such. Wasteful times.

fuckeverythingandsociety

fuckeverythingandsociety:

itsmemacleod:

callmebliss:

cobblestones-brokenbones:

okhaley:

127-lbs:

the-jackals:

tedbre:

thejamesboyle:

caluummhood:

HOLY SHIT, IT WAS THE ORIGINAL ONE

MAKE A WISH

the first post ever on tumblr

this was why they put the reblog button on the bottom of posts

I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO SEE LINDSAY LOHAN OR SOME SHIT WOW

Always reblog because perfection.

I was waiting for the stupid patrick thing but yay the real post. love it.

This is sacred

OHMYZOD IT’S BACK

I REMEMBER WHEN THIS HAD 10000 NOTES AND I HAD TO TAKE THE TIME AND SCROLL ALL THE WAY BACK UP TO REBLOG

.

Perfection.

Ramblings and musings.

I rack the slide of the trench sweeper as the final mortar explodes somewhere in no man land. The silence is deafening. 10 shells is all I have. “Make them count” I think. I hear no other boots but my own. And I know no one else made it. Not Jonesy. Not Hartford. Their bodies are out there. Somewhere in the empty space between them and us. Further a head the chatter of a machine gun sounds. Short bursts. Their trying to keep someone pinned down. I have to help. If only because they’d be my only back up. Step by step I being forward knowing every turn every corner could hide my demise. I am alert. I am ready. Should I perish let it be with a roar in my throat and not the groan of a bayonet in my stomach. I’m afraid. I don’t want to die here. Alone. I can see the glint of an officers hat ahead. Swaying in the fashion of a dandelion in the fields. What a strange thought to have now. So close to what could be my end. Ha. If Jenny could see me now she’d laugh herself silly. I wonder if she’s ok…I’m here the edge of the nest is around this corner. Another burst. Slower. More deliberate. Their toying with the target. Two at the gun the officer I can assume his assistant and whoever is supposed to be manning the radio. 5 of them. 10 shells. I can do this. Wide sweeps just like they taught me. I breath deeply. Maybe my last. 10 shells. Make them count. I raise the barrel. And turn the corner.