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Spilling My Guts in Las Vegas

Casino floors are designed to confuse you. A strong, bold, and borderline ancient pattern covers the floors, lingering the scent of nicotine in any and all forms and leftover alcohol. They are confusing you, trapping you, holding on and squeezing your lungs for what is left. The exit of casinos are typically tucked away, to prevent the mistake if anyone dares to leave before the past is dealt on the table.

The invisible hand on my lungs, deciding if I can’t take another breath, or if I dare to let myself fall into a trap of past illusions, because either way, the night is going to end with me dying, whether that be emotionally or physically. 168 hours to fix things, and yet you only healed what you teenage self wanted. 

Everything is legal in Nevada, but the worst crimes are emotions and thoughts. 

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you look in the mirror and die a little on an hourly basis. honestly, it’s not even hourly. every second, the mirror turns into a distorted version of yourself; circling the drain, circling your heart. i miss you from the past, not the dead casket i see today.

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pokemon making fairy types a bunch of little pink bitches but also making fairy one of the strongest typings in the game was so fucking based

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you know what

who decided tumblr wasn’t something that’s dead

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If you need Plan B,

here’s a printable $10 off coupon

. 

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modest mouse // karma’s payment

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Van Gogh alive Roma ♡

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I’d love to, but only with you.

Morrissey, “I’d Love To,” Viva Hate (via thelovejournals)

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Rober Smith - 1983. 

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1996 - brand new

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I sent this and immediately thought of @shreddernaut