Oregonian, recluse, trying to show love to everyone I meet. Radical Feminist.
a thousand ants crawling under a log may find themselves exposed in my childlike search for you.

Everyone’s fucked up. You’ve just gotta decide what kinda fucked up you’re into.
— (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: kushandwizdom, via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)


*cha cha’s real smooth away from academic responsibilities*

(via nice-wig-janis)

Parker. I love you. Since we were in preschool you have been a light to all of us. I’m happy that one of the last times I saw you was dancing at our friends wedding and we laughed so hard because dipping was a struggle, that is how I will remember you. I thank God for knowing you. As I sit in a room with our childhood friends I can’t help but think of how you made each gathering better with your spirit. I weep, but I smile. You, oh you.

and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love
— Warsan Shire, For Women Who Are Difficult To Love  (via dirtyberd)

(Source: feellng, via dapperdecaf)