Roots of a rotting tree

Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives… and to the “good life”, whatever it is and wherever it happens to be.

—Hunter s. Thompson (via lost-roads)

(via fear-and-loathing-in-cambridge)

she says, “you always smell like cigarettes, and there’s always whiskey on your breath, but you’re the best that i can do, and i think i love you.” / now if you want me to slow down / just tell me to slow down / because i want to be loved / she says, “you don’t love me you just love sex, but i can’t wait around for something better than this, because you’re the best that i can do, and i wish i could leave you”


dying in cambridge. 

feelin’ Channel Orange

welcome to the secular age.

wishing I was 100% british/10.

finna find that someone who’s good at sex.

I am feeling especially self-destructive on this night.