i wonder how many people would actually care if i died, i mean really care, not just be sad because they’re being polite, who would be crushed, who would scream for me to come back, i wonder who would think of me everyday after i was gone. probably no one, but it would be nice if even just one person was truly upset.
(Source: unicorn-testicles, via j-4-k-3)
call me a whore/slut all you want. honestly, none of you know my life and what I went through. You inconsiderate, narcissistic people can all suck my dick.
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my friends:
i love it when my boyfriend tells me he loves me
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me:
i love it when my microwave tells me my food is ready
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gatsby:
hey i just met you
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gatsby:
and this is crazy
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gatsby:
but i'm going to spend most of my life and wealth in an attempt to pursue you for your stunning vapidness and the warped image of yourself created in my mind as a precursor to my eventual fall
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gatsby:
so call me maybe
I’m assuming the London Olympics will have Quidditch
(Source: voldemortoutbitches, via bitter-sweeett)
I’m assuming the London Olympics will have Quidditch
(Source: voldemortoutbitches, via bitter-sweeett)
