trying to make sense out of the chaos in my head
(via acohol)
I’m going to keep pretending that someone making me cum would fix all my problems
What is this place between hopeless romantic and strong independent individual
I call it the Jane Austen heroine
my toxic trait is carelessly getting dressed in front of open windows because if someone wants to look in, that’s their problem
(via acohol)
(via flhor)
sometimes i really just want to drop out of med school and go live in the rain forest
(via flhor)