There should be a word to describe that horrible feeling you get when you realize halfway through telling a story that it’s not as funny as you thought it was, but it’s too late to back out. So you just finish the story and everyone listening does that awkward polite laugh and then it gets quiet, so you burn your house down, fake your death, move to Chile and start a new life as a loner fisherman.
(via skelebon-blog)
"I like people who dream or talk to themselves interminably; I like them, for they are double. They are here and elsewhere."
Albert Camus (via eve-carmichael)(via timid)
The cable people are here and I keep offering them waffles and they look concerned and I should not be an adult
“Mam you do not need to feed us” IM SORRY ITS ALL I KNOW
My parents didn’t ever actually teach how to adult. The only things I learned were to hoard plastic bags within plastic bags and that whenever there is a person in your house you feed them
(via maggie-lol)
