jenlog:

katiaobinger:

the true american experience is wondering if you just heard firecrackers or gunshots

If you can’t tell which it is, then that means you don’t actually know what a gun sounds like.

(via imbackintheussr)

(via kr0n1k4)

I must say I find that girl utterly delightful. Flat as a board, enormous birthmark in the shape of Mexico over half her face, sweating for hours on end in that sweltering kitchen while Mendl (genius though he is) looms over her like a hulking gorilla - yet without question, without fail, always, and invariably: she’s exceedingly lovely. Why? Because of her purity. - The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014, dir. by Wes Anderson)

(via jocelynm)

bringtheruckuss:

Star Trek 3: The Search for Plot

By JJ Abrams

I blamed Melissa for a lot of my problems, I blamed her for my intimacy problems, my commitment issues. I blamed her for failing out of school, for wasting my money, for gaining all this weight. I made her out be an evil, vindictive, narcissistic cunt. I hated her with and loved her with every fiber of my being. I never understood how she felt until recently. I never understood how hard it was for her to leave until I had to do the same thing. I shamed her for what she did, and I didn’t even feel bad about it. Leaving Sarah was the hardest thing I’ve had to do, and I know she doesn’t believe me. Because I wouldn’t believe me, because I didn’t believe Melissa.

I’m a fucking emotional wreck deal with it. 

I’m a terrible person and I kind of hate myself.

I ended a perfect relationship because I’m selfish.

I deserve to be fat and alone.

Fuck hippies. Build pipelines