"You used to be so kind, I never knew you had such a dirty mind!" Yeah, basically.
By the way I'm Elena. A 17-year-old girl that never wants to grow up. I'm amazed by the hippie culture and I'd give everything to live in the '60s. If I start writing about me it'll be too long so I'm gonna stop. Now. Oh yeah, I deleted my last TUMBLR because it was a mess and I like starting things over again. Enjoy this one before it's too late (: kay byee
why don’t people warn you about the really unglamorous parts of being in your early twenties?thank heaven for wine
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.
Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep. You are in California, Australia, wide awake. Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone. Maybe love is not ready for you. Maybe you are not ready for love. Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type. Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce–love looks older now, but just as beautiful as you remember. Maybe love is only there for a month. Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit.
Maybe love stays. Maybe love can’t. Maybe love shouldn’t.
Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to, and love leaves exactly when love must. When love arrives say, “Welcome, make yourself comfortable.” If love leaves, ask her to leave the door opened behind her. Turn off the music. Listen to the quiet. Whisper, “Thank you for stopping by.”
I love boys who will never love me back.
Letting the phone go to voicemail when my
mother calls. Biting my nails bloody.
Wearing dresses when I should wear jeans.
Making my body small. Forgetting names
but not asking for them again. Maybe I should
have called. Maybe you should stop calling.
Maybe I should have remembered how you
take your coffee, your favorite band,
that you smoke a pack a day. Maybe I should
have apologized. If it’s any consolation,
my next birthday will be me eating cake in bed
and licking the icing off of my fingers alone.
this has me written all over it