ily0808
ily0808
Queen of Disaster
280 posts
What do I even put in here?
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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Praying for Paris
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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I don't want to get off this bus and go back to my life. I want to take a break from everything and stay on this bus for another year. ((I've been on this bus for like 2hrs lol))
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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WHY ISN’T THIS ON ITUNES??????? :(
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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Halsey last night slayed my entire existence I left there hella scalped
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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Halsey’s speech pre-Hurricane, in Orlando, FL. Oct 17th, 2015. Badlands Tour. 
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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Young God|Halsey live. NOT my video.
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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Halsey performing Is There Somewhere in Orlando - 17/10
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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Oct. 17th House of Blues Orlando
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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Halsey | Badlands Tour; Orlando | 10.17.15 ©  Kayla Surico
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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~Dance with the devil
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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@iamhalsey TONIGHT WAS LIT 👯🎉🎶😁😊 the pcd is so real rn (at House of Blues Orlando)
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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YES #ahs#ahshotel
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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He doesn’t like to cuddle. He likes to grip my hips and pull the fibers of pink tissue in shreds from my lip with his teeth. He throws his hands in the air like a messiah and leans his head out the open window. easy. breathe. codeine. breeze. We laugh loudly and kiss loudly and moan loudly. He mouths vulgar things that make me giggle in front of our friends. I run my hand along the seam off his tight black jeans beneath the table top. He rolls his eyes and smirks at me. We take every opportunity to touch, to feel, so secretly. So public. Exhibitionist pleasure. We play like children, tousling my hair and I climb on his back. We roll spliff after spliff and talk rapidly and vigorously and trip over each others sentences like a sidewalk crack. He says “us” like it means “amen” and his eyes burn wild with a fire of passion. We get drunk. Off of wine and skin and things we love. His smile erupts across his face like it could shatter his cheekbones. His eyes glimmer like a lake catching the glare of the moonlight. A glint of silver is growing up the side of his hairline. He thinks it makes him look distinguished. I laugh and agree. He loves to be so much older than me. He thinks it makes him wise. We spend a lot of time in hotel rooms with the doors shut. (We spend a lot of time outside of hotel rooms with our mouths shut.) He thinks the Xanax makes the sex last longer and I don’t argue. I always wake up first. I sit at the desk and work quietly and glance at him in the sheets. Vulnerable and quiet. Soft face. Soft sounds. A warm cup of coffee and marmalade light through the windows. We bond over love for our brothers. We fight over where the chord change should go. We tease, oh we tease. He likes clean socks and messy hair and he runs his fingers down my overall straps with a tigers grin. He writes his name in the fog on the mirror from where he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pressed my face against the glass. He loves soul music. We sing confidently and triumphantly. I tap my fingers like spiders legs across his bare chest and undo his buttons one by one. I toss my head back and laugh maniacally and pout my lips when he won’t be fair. He speaks like a pastor and trips over his words, his tongue struggles to meet his brain. That’s how a prodigy thinks. (Or it’s the drugs). He knows when my words are about him and he lets it all go to his head and I don’t care because I love to watch him love himself. We laugh and fuck and play and write and plot and say goodbye and never worry. He is my occasional constant. A parody of himself. A paradox of ever present and transparent. I don’t care what he is.
I just care THAT he is. (via se7enteenblack)
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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play this at my wedding or funeral I don’t care where but just plAY IT
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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can we just stop for a minute
the other day it was admitted to me by a close male friend that being a virgin and never having a girlfriend before is one of his biggest insecurities. that’s fucked up, okay. why do we balance teenage boys masculinity on the number of girls they’ve gotten their dick into? Why is it that they feel so pressured by this to the point where it’s an insecurity? yet a girls femininity isn’t counted by how many boys they’ve had sex with, in fact it gets them classed as a slut. What the actual fuck can we just take a minute please to register how fucked up that is it’s nobody elses business who you’ve had sexual relations with and you should all be confident in yourselves no matter what okay because this whole concept is fucked up and we should all just treat each other equally because no one is less of a man than you for not fucking anyone, no one is more of a man than you for fucking half the school. This honestly makes me so angry, can we all just stop.
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ily0808 · 10 years ago
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I've started making this cake and it looks so pretty.
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