Life=

Level up

I dont make music thats too stupid

Im not sure if confidence is key

cuz when i waved at you, you didnt even look at me

i suddenly had  an urge to kill you in your sleep

so that you could live forever in a world made out of dreams

i might be a little misunderstood 

i might be a little bit too hood

i might be a little bit psycho 

still got charm like Micheal

jordans

i hate those kicks

i hate the kids that wear that shit

i dont want to rhyme anymore…..fuck it 

phatwemin:

thebestratio:

morn1ngwood:

hahaha

I was waiting for this haha

Omg

phatwemin:

thebestratio:

morn1ngwood:

hahaha

I was waiting for this haha

Omg

(Source: 9e2)

not really tyler stfu

not really tyler stfu

(Source: jaredgifs, via babouthejabroni)

uutpoetry:


When You Think You are Seeing It, Then It is a Reflection Which Deceives You
Once again it is too dark to speak. The eagles are awkward leaning at the tour guide with the colander hat. The same wet carving block is festering over my head imperially. There’s a terminus in my veins. Billboards are advertising enhanced sinks and atomic underwear. I leave the monastery to combat paganism. I deactivate my Pinterest account. Raisins pour out their blood-sugar like engineers in the brown evening. Various solids are locked in the grid of drum machines. We react because the torsion of the North pole has squashed the giant slab of worldly etiquette. But love is insect-frail, is a blinking at the source, is thick as a river in a coarse and dazzling body, is a field of deformation. At night the ice-gleams of the double image of hysteria fasten to our brain tissues like fluttering pennants.
art by ALE SINIESTЯO

uutpoetry:

When You Think You are Seeing It, Then It is a Reflection Which Deceives You

Once again
it is too dark to speak.
The eagles are awkward
leaning at the tour guide
with the colander hat.
The same wet carving block
is festering over my head
imperially. There’s a terminus
in my veins. Billboards
are advertising enhanced sinks
and atomic underwear.
I leave the monastery
to combat paganism. I deactivate
my Pinterest account.
Raisins pour out their blood-sugar
like engineers in the brown evening.
Various solids are locked in the grid
of drum machines. We react
because the torsion of the North pole
has squashed the giant slab
of worldly etiquette. But love is
insect-frail, is a blinking
at the source, is thick as a river
in a coarse and dazzling body, is
a field of deformation. At night
the ice-gleams of
the double image of hysteria
fasten to our brain tissues
like fluttering pennants.


art by ALE SINIESTЯO

#OralSex

everythingisalright-:

I am so lucky to have such an amazing boyfriend. 

Life is so good.

(Source: everythingisalright-)


the dudes