(Source: outcamethesun, via travelerschecks)

(Source: lenastardust)

Anonymous asked: "Ahahahaha ; Am I boring now?" - Of all the terms in the English language that might be used to describe you based on your blog, 'boring' is not among them. 'Kinda hot' is - though it would be cool to see more than two pics...

Tedious. then? 

Ahah. I’ll consider it. 

Anonymous asked: Wow! A mere day goes by, and the whole look of the site changes. I actually like this style more. And there's even two pics of you - though that does kinda remove some of the 'mystique'...

Ahahahaha sorry :) Am I boring now?

(via demolegocity)

inkwings:

Dorothy Wizard in Oz 6 Coverby skottieyoung

(via fockles)

I feel like I need to write, because I want to, and because I feel like I’ve been denying myself basic release for a very, very long time.

Writers are poor. Writers work very hard for very little money. Writers and their craft are under appreciated. Writers sew their soul into a novel only to have it end up in the Last Copies bin at Chapters, unloved and un-bought, left to the trash bin or some lonely shelf in the back room. Writers can find their work ripped to shreds by strangers. In second-hand stores, decades from now, notes scribbled into the margins and pages missing. Their life’s work destroyed.

I read a book once. It was a stupid, tweenaged book — about monsters or something. I read in the back, in the author’s bio, that he had spent thirteen years working on his books. Thirteen years. At the time, that was my lifetime. He had spent the equivalent of my lifetime working on this book, this book I had bought for 3.99 inside a Last Copies bin. A book that had not been a success. Had not ended up on the NYT Bestseller’s List. A book completely pushed to the side and left to rot, as if the story inside it was useless and worthless.

Was the thirteen years spent on that novel worthless, too? 

I felt by buying that book I had completely invalidated his existence. It was the worst I’d ever felt, ever. And I’m coming to realize that the book and the lessons I’d derived from it had affected me more than I’d thought; it’s the reason I don’t want to be a writer.

Because I’m a coward, a phony, and I don’t write for the love or writing, I write because writing, to me, is only worth doing if somebody’s listening.  I’m beyond terrified my work would become worthless, demeaned by the system and a dwindling population of readers. I don’t want to discover the harsh truth: the craft I’d dedicated my life to is meaningless. Nobody wants to read my writing, and if nobody wants to read it, it might as well not exist. 

Maybe that’s why people take it so personally when you critique their work: you’re actually criticizing their souls. 

This Is Just A Phase - STEPHANIE GEORGOPULOS (via ijusthadstecks)

Henri Nouwen (via fernsandmoss)

(via nessfraserloves)

Anonymous asked: You are hot as fuck would love to see your tits. And would love for your hot mouth to suck my cock.