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these are my confessions

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annaakana:

swiftsugg:

When Anna Akana is me. (x)

MY HURR LOOKS FABULOUS IN THIS 

“ I, too, remember the feeling. You are caught between all that was and all that must be. You feel lost. ”

—    Haruki Murakami, Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of The World  (via whyallcaps)

(via ardentandarcane)

Sometimes, what you really need is a few good friends who talks great sense because eventually you’ll realise it’ll always be okay in the end :’)

pastelliyon:

beauty is the color of the mountains against the pale sky

(via parachutesandpostcards)

breadmaakesyoufat:

shut the fuck up hermione you fucking nerd.

(Source: nevillles, via labyrinthinehearts)

myramylove:

I don’t think I can do any of these.

(Source: cosmopolitan.com, via yumincym)

Need to start letting go of those memories already.

I feel like I can be anything with you.

(Source: ozhin, via iheart-stonefield)

“ Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I have already heard the word rubbed raw across the flesh of so many girls before me. Thrown at them like rocks that beat the skin of those we do not understand. “You are beautiful,” we yell with such contempt. “God dammit, why won’t you just believe me, you’re beautiful!” It is not a compliment. It is a victory march of your own self sacrifice. “You’re beautiful,” we say through gritted teeth. “You’re beautiful,” we spit out through tears, looking at a reflection we hate. “You’re beautiful,” we say, holding a body that has never felt the arms of another. “You’re beautiful.” Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. A word like that floats on the surface, give me something with depth. Tell me I’m intelligent. Tell me I’m courageous. Tell me that when I laugh the whole world smiles. Tell me that my voice is sweeter than strawberries. Remind me that my hands have helped flowers grow, painted the ocean, and captured the sky in my phone. Assure me that with a mind like mine, I can change the world. Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I don’t really care if it’s true. I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that beauty goes through and through. Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I’ve felt the word splatter against me enough for a lifetime. I am better than the “beautiful” that slips from your lips. I am the ocean, 36,000 feet deep. There are parts of me you have never seen. I am outer space, infinite in your search. I am not simply “beautiful.” I’m a fucking masterpiece. ”

—    Unknown  (via spinals)

(Source: crimson-jpg, via ardentandarcane)