breathtakingqueens: “The most challenging aspect of this film was the fact that I was trying to take my A-levels at the same time I was filming. So my life was crazy. One minute I was on set, and the next minute I was doing an exam, or reading a...

breathtakingqueens:

The most challenging aspect of this film was the fact that I was trying to take my A-levels at the same time I was filming. So my life was crazy. One minute I was on set, and the next minute I was doing an exam, or reading a textbook, or doing something, so I was a bit all over the place. Sometimes it’s kind of hard to juggle both aspects of my life.
– Emma Watson

(Reblogged from daily-emmawatson)
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I’ve survived a lot of things, and I’ll probably survive this.
I repost this every time it comes up on my dash. Because I need this reminder several times a day. (via amandaq62)
(Reblogged from radical-illusion)

sourcedumal:

meinewortesindwundershon:

damn, Tina!

Tina is about that life.

(Reblogged from kingloriah)
(Reblogged from recoveryofabrokenteen)
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I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mothers name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mothers joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin? Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea? And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me, how would you explain the miracle of my life to me? And for all the times you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself, have the prayers you’ve asked come true? And if they didn’t did you feel denied? And if you felt denied, denied by who[m]? I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see in the mirror on a day a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who ever taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass. If you ever reach enlightenment, will you remember how to laugh? Have you ever been a song? See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds. And if you dream sometimes that this life is just a balloon that if you wanted to you could pop—but you never would because you’d never want it to stop.
Andrea Gibson (via interceptings)
(Reblogged from thisisnotmyfairytaleendingg-dea)
View high resolution
(Reblogged from queereyedd)
View high resolution
(Reblogged from helpfvl)
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I wanted to kill myself and you were yelling about dirty dishes

12 word story, d.m (via i-need-a-cure)
(via pvnkslut)

wow… this just hit me on a very personal level.

(via kiefeon)

(Reblogged from youvegotmeonmytoes)
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It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)
(Reblogged from broken-from-memories)

Telling someone something personal and immediately regretting it

infj-fish:

image
(Reblogged from sappy-little-trees)