I follow a king.
Emily-22-UK. I live in Nottingham.


I like beards, mustaches, leopard print, tattoos, piercings, music and beautiful people. Not many people undertand my humour, but hey, it's my blog. I post what I like!
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icalledyoudumb:

myideaoffuniskillingeveryone:

Danny Galieote

I would frame and hang these in my house in a heartbeat.

(via imsogladyourenotadinosaur)

gaystray:

do you ever just smell an old perfume, or hear an old song, or pass an old hangout spot and kinda break inside for a couple minutes

(via jennehbear)

For My Father, S.Skavdahl (via ding-ang-bato)

(via bethvr)

My older brother received a call at two pm on a Thursday,
That his roommate from college
And best friend from high school;
Overdosed and died,
Last Wednesday night.

My brother is 25 years old.
He missed three days of work, sat at home in the dark,
And cried for the first time in six months.
This is not poetry.

My father is very, very sick.
He sleeps for seven hours,
To build up a half hour of strength,
Just so he can pick me up from school.
He hasn’t been well in over a year.
And still,
He prays every night, “Thank you God, for making this happen to me, and not my children.”

I am swallowed in fear,
That soon enough, he will go to bed,
And never wake up.
This is not poetry.

There are thousands of people,
fighting cancer,
and war,
and death,
just to have one more day,
In hopes that it will get better.

And still,
You people glorify sadness,
and long for your death,
because apparently life,
is just too much of a burden.
Wake up, your ignorance is sickening.
Your life is thousands of times more beautiful,
Than your death will be.