How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?
Don DeLillo (via bareandbleached)
(Source: thechocolatebrigade, via bareandbleached)
(Source: imsuchafuckinglady, via warmcheeks)
3 days ago - 
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(Source: bagonghi, via thats-so-meme)
to celebrate my weekend and for having my prospectus done, I’m watching the trilogy. #nerdalert
(Source: necrodonkey, via thats-so-meme)
The sign of intelligence is that you are constantly wondering. Idiots are always dead sure about every damn thing they are doing in their life.
Vasudev (via sociopoliticaldribble)
(Source: seedeeply, via write-drunkedit-sober)
(Source: animalsdressedasotheranimals, via elizabethfury)
