August 2009
Michael Lopez
Can we stop being douches and communicating through tumblr? Email me or get on aim. Oh and I don’t have your number!
Alright, I’m going to my mama’s. Lets hope my sisters don’t tear my throat out.
Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and...
oneheartbeating:
skeletone:
flickflickflicker:
littlejames:
“but that is because our minds are finite, whereas the Creator’s mind is infinite.”
“most of my mail these days was fan mail - and pretty strange it was, too.”
“I’ll show you how far I’ve progressed in the Black Art: I shall soon be competent to make a clear house of it.”
-Wuthering Heights
some of the veins are leaking blood,...
Seriously one happy little thing right now.
I'm dead.
apresladanse:
mirrormymalady:
I’m dead. Fuck.
Did you die? Respond to my calls and texts….
No I’m alive. Thank god I didn’t die the same day as dj am. That would suck. My sister is trying to fuck my life up and it’s a long story. My phone is fucked up so I basically have no way to get ahold of anyone.
I'm dead.
I’m dead. Fuck.
HOLY SHIT. NO ONE WOULD BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED TO ME TODAY. HOLY SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. This is so fucked up/amazing. lghoahiahg I don’t know what to do right now.
CECIL HOTEL, Los Angeles “Take a deteriorating building, a skid row neighborhood, proximity to a clinic for sex offenders, and serial killers as long-term guests, and you come close to describing the magic of the Cecil Hotel in the 1980s. The hotel is now a boutique establishment that plays on its access to the nearby Staples Center, but in its glory years it hosted a ghoulish assortment of...
remember
nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters. nothing really matters.
