The city looks so peaceful from up here.
Anything is peaceful from one thousand three hundred and fifty three feet.
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986)
Types of people who romanticize small town life:
- People who didn’t grow up in small towns
#THE LOCALS AREN’T QUIRKY#THEY’RE RACIST
#THERE’S NOTHING TO DO
#EVERYONE’S ON DRUGS
#WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE GANGSTERS YOU ARE WHITE AND THERE ARE COWS OUTSIDE
I am the kind of girl that you take home to meet your mom
and she loves me
when you are mean to me
and lose me,
she will ask why I’m not around
did she ever do that before?
I am the kind of girl that you give up the late night text messages
with your ex-girlfriend for
she makes you feel like shit anyways
and the reason why you stopped being on your phone
all the damn time
trying to flirt with someone you hardly even know
to fill a void
but if you don’t drop that for me
I won’t stay long
I’m not the kind of girl
who gets caught in a web
with someone who doesn’t look towards the future
I am the kind of girl who would rather be alone
than with someone who always puts me second (never again)
and I am not to be pushed to the side
I am not an option
I am all or nothing
does that intimidate you?
I am the kind of girl
that makes you wonder why you didn’t look more carefully at the sky
before you met me
you probably trust me
and think I could complete you
(maybe I will)
and the kind of girl who is terrified of you
because she doesn’t know how to let someone in
because I like your mom too and I don’t want
her to text me six months from now saying
it had been a pleasure to know me
and she wishes I was still around
i write dumb poems (via olivia-ross)
Omfg tht middle part bout the ex-gf so fucking accurate to my life rn.
Read it over.
Let those words resonate in your mind."
- Go to a party and stay sober. Listen to the way your drunk classmates talk when they don’t plan to remember tonight when they wake up. Never talk about these experiences, just keep them for yourself.
- Start driving in one direction on the highway after school one day, pretending like you’re running away. Blast bad pop music and sing along. Stop in the suburbs when your mom calls you to come home, but buy your little brother a cupcake before you turn back around.
- Kiss your best friend. It doesn’t matter what sexuality or gender you are or they are. It doesn’t matter if it’s a peck or you escalate to tongue. You’ll laugh about it later, but it will always make you smile just for the memory.
- Smoke a cigarette. Let it burn your throat. Cough, loudly.
- Take a stand for something you believe in. When half your school laughs at you, take it with pride. Someone agrees, even if they’re too scared to say so.
- Make enemies. Make the kind of mistakes that cause your life to implode. Lose everyone and everything to these mistakes. Only when you fall will you find out that you can pick yourself back up.
- Sit on someone’s roof and talk for hours. Forget about dinner and tell your origin stories. Let your guard down while the dog barks below. Talk about god. Listen.
- Steal Bourbon from your parents’ liquor cabinet and put it in a water bottle beneath your bathroom sink. Spike your tea with it when you think you’ve hit rock bottom. Pour the whole thing down the drain when it’s too strong for you.
- Become a stereotype. Buy a record player and combat boots. Wear all black. Dye your hair bright blue and get your ear pierced three times. Don’t care when people laugh at you.
- Make wishes at 11:11. Wear your pajamas backwards in the hopes of a snow day. Look for answers at the bottom of a bottle. Pretend writing things on your arms makes you special. Believe in anything. Believe in everything. Open every book and look around every corner. You’ll never look like this or move like this or think like this again. Enjoy it while it lasts or hate every second. But feel. Feel every damn thing.
*short haired people sobbing in the corner*
*curly haired people stare longingly*
*punk chic that can never be pin-up/rockabilly chic stares then sobbs*