{I'm gizelle,
14, sad & filipino}
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If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.
—e.e. cummings

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I ached for what never became.
—ueioa.tumblr.com (via yoursixwordstory)

(via badluckbianca)

I go through phases. Somedays I feel like the person I’m supposed to be, and then somedays, I turn into no one at all. There is both me and my silhouette. I hope that on the days you find me and all I am are darkened lines, you still are willing to be near me.
—Mary Kate Teske  (via melwent)

(Source: hellanne, via loud--and--queer)

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