Tonia's Turbulent Thoughts

scribnerbooks:

Stephen King on his son Owen’s debut novel, DOUBLE FEATURE: ”If you are in the mood to laugh your ass off, Double Feature will perform that surgery and painlessly. I am proud of my son, Owen, and in awe of his talent.” 

Read an excerpt here.

(Source: chickabiddy, via wusfan)

dolly.l | do not edit.

(Source: fyeahkris)

(Source: kwangyoon, via bb2ngster)

MIKO_KRIS | do not edit.

(Source: fy-exo, via deerwithdragon)

面瘫二货小男神 | do not edit.

(Source: fy-exo, via deerwithdragon)

cabinporn:

Barn in Gargellen, Austria.

(Source: leuhans, via heavenlynote)

The urge to contact him(“he who shall not be identified”) or “Lars” is a good enough alias. So, the overwhelming urge to call or rather send a text is a pain in the ass. Which is one more pain I don’t need or want. It’s the injustice that I have a hard time swallowing. People breakup or separate everyday for a million different reasons. Rarely is it truly mutual. He thinks I wronged him and I think he wronged me. Whatever. People change. Someone I loved for a decade who claimed to love me is just gone. And the worst part is that I miss him desperately sometimes and the urge to contact him is so strong. I think about all the things I would/could/should say and it just hurts. But what will always hold me back is the memory of those cold shoulders. Those silences. The long waits for just a word. Not worth it. I should be over it but it’s just one more awful part of my life. I picked out my casket last week. I don’t even know if I want to say goodbye or let him know when I no longer linger when the cancer finally takes me. We fought and said terrible things to each other and we haven’t spoke in nearly a year. I hate him almost as much as I loved him. I would want to know if he died. But the awful truth is we are already dead to each other. He will never know anything else about me. Even if I wish he really cared. And that keeps me from even saying hi when we pass each other on the street or sending a late night I miss u text. Or maybe I still hate you, lol I think all sorts of silly stuff to say, but I won’t. Soon I won’t even be here and I really really want him to know. I want him to say I love you one last time or say I am the most awesome girl he’s ever known(even if it’s not true). I want him to say he will remember. Sigh. I write the silliest stuff. So embarrassing if I could be embarrassed.

lovely-kittens:

Look at the center of this image for 30sec, then watch Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’ come to life.

(via cravesexxx)