A completely unproductive.
sharontates:

Carole Lombard, 1938. Photo by Rex Hardy

sharontates:

Carole Lombard, 1938. Photo by Rex Hardy

limerent.

lovely limeremce,

we met and tolerated company.

but now i am out haunting the night,

my feet are bloody,

i have left my books behind.

i nearly killed us both,

but i seemed so sorry,

so desperately sorry,

that our hearts go out to me.

don’t you feel the same,

won’t you?

lovely, lovely.

An oil painting of Bette Davis done for Life Magazine by Alexander Brook.
(November 20th, 1944) — Click on high-resolution to read the accompanying article.

An oil painting of Bette Davis done for Life Magazine by Alexander Brook.

(November 20th, 1944) — Click on high-resolution to read the accompanying article.

20 plays | by Cole Heeren

Cole Heeren - Sending Signs

I’m not the most musical human in the world, for sure. Sometimes, however, I get these unshakable urges to write songs. Even less frequently, I get the urge to record said songs and inflict them upon others. This is the result.

“Rooms are things we build
And things we fill
With pieces of our souls and of our minds,
And hearts, hearts are born,
And hearts are torn
To pieces,
I’ll pretend that things are fine…”

(Source: ilyfforever)

If you were happy every day of your life you wouldn’t be a human being, you’d be a game show host.

Heathers

why is it that when i’m just out with friends i’m a goddamn social butterfly, but when i’m involved in anything that could vaguely resemble dating i’m as distant as greta fucking garbo?

whoops. “casablanca” made me cry again.

fuck being single.

people on tumblr: omg you're perfect
my parents: i have such a handsome son
people in the real world: let's fuck

i take pride in the fact i can be annoying instead of “fucking annoying.”

sometimes people talk and then i wish they were dead.