My Mind.

cassadee pope + rian dawson (on the voice)

lmprovident:


“Alexandria’s Genesis, a.k.a violet eyes (a genetic mutation).
When someone is born with Alexandria’s Genesis, their eyes are blue or gray at birth. After six months, the eyes begin to change from their original color to purple, and this process lasts six months. During puberty, the color deepens to dark purple, a deep purple, a royal purple, or a violet-blue color and remains that way. It does not affect the person’s eyesight.Those who have this mutation will never grow any facial, body, pubic, or anal hair (not including hair on their head, on their ears, noses, eyebrows and eyelashes). Women also do not menstruate, but are fertile”

NO FUCKING SHAVING
NO FUCKING PERIODS
AND I GET PURPLE EYES
WHY THE FUCK WASN’T I BORN WITH THIS
FUCK WHY CAN I HAVE THIS

lmprovident:

“Alexandria’s Genesis, a.k.a violet eyes (a genetic mutation).


When someone is born with Alexandria’s Genesis, their eyes are blue or gray at birth. After six months, the eyes begin to change from their original color to purple, and this process lasts six months. During puberty, the color deepens to dark purple, a deep purple, a royal purple, or a violet-blue color and remains that way. It does not affect the person’s eyesight.

Those who have this mutation will never grow any facial, body, pubic, or anal hair (not including hair on their head, on their ears, noses, eyebrows and eyelashes)Women also do not menstruate, but are fertile”

NO FUCKING SHAVING

NO FUCKING PERIODS

AND I GET PURPLE EYES

WHY THE FUCK WASN’T I BORN WITH THIS

FUCK WHY CAN I HAVE THIS

I’m okay now

landorus:

armorgan66:

landorus:

pretty sure my soulmate is a bag of sour gummy worms

I just ate a whole bag of those, no joke

u piece of fucking shit that was the love of my life

drellabove:

All Time Low - Lullabies (acoustic) [watch here]

drellabove:

All Time Low - Lullabies (acoustic) [watch here]

phyxiated:

rainbowcranes:

Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”
On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”. 
Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes. I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was. 
This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.


Im crying oh my god

phyxiated:

rainbowcranes:

Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”

On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”. 

Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes. 
I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was. 

This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.

Im crying oh my god

heyrizzles:

do you ever just start watching a show because you hear there are lesbians

a-flying-emu:

bunniferbennett:

say it with me:

makeup is gender neutral

I whispered “makeup is gender neutral” out loud on the train and the guy next to me looked at me weird but then whispered “fuck yea” back

You know when you’re around that person you like and your heart does that thing.

Beating hearts.

my heart is beating
my hands are heating
my love is speeding.
I’m not leaving.
Stay with me for the night.
We can hug and have play fights.
Don’t go anywhere, darling
I’ll keep stalling.
Hold my hand.
tell me you love me.
Write our names in sand.
Everyone will see but that doesn’t mean we can’t be.
I love you so much
Nothing can split us apart.
Not time, not space.
Not even Homophobic hate.

~Raven