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Dylan Patrick Harrington. Love cars. Not single. My friends call me casper. Radical.
~ Monday, May 20 ~
I always somehow manage to end great weekends with my lover on poor notes. This was one hell of a weekend to screw up too.
The simple phrase “I’m sorry” has become familiar and frequent as inhaling and exhaling. I’ll never learn.
rifa:
RAW POTATOES I MEAN WHY HAVE SEX WHEN YOU CAN EAT RAW POTATOES
NOTHING LIKE A RAW POTATO TO KILL YOUR BONER
KENZIE I FOUND IT
oh my GOD
(Source: billhitchert)
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~ Sunday, May 19 ~
I’m gonna do some pretty fun stuff with my first paycheck c;
~ Saturday, May 18 ~
~ Friday, May 17 ~
did i just get payed 0 dollars for working three days in a row
the fuck
~ Monday, May 13 ~
“God knows how i got so ugly, i guess it just comes from being slugged and slugged again and again, and not going down, still trying to think, to feel, still trying to put the butterfly back together again…it’s written a map on my face that nobody would ever want to hang on their wall.
sometimes i’ll see myself somewhere…suddenly…say in a large mirror in a supermarket…eyes like little mean bugs…face scarred, twisted, yes, i look insane, demented, what a mess…spilled vomit of skin…yet, when i see the “handsome” men i think, my god my god, i’m glad i’m not them”
― Charles Bukowski, Sunlight Here I Am
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