i remember being at this mechanic shop with my father visiting his friends, which was a regular morning happening. i was ten or so. i was sitting on a black leather chair with silver metalwork, i looked through the sticker-covered windows of the shop and saw a man sitting alone on the curb of the street. he had no possessions with him. he was doing absolutely nothing and it seemed as if he was not waiting for anyone. he would sometimes run his fingers through his hair, but he nothing more. he just sat there. my father and i left the shop and we drove down the same road later that evening. that man was still there. i remember thinking: “he is probably nothing to no one”
lying in bed that night i thought that same thought, except about myself
that thought has not really left my mind since and i do not feel like it ever will
it’s always 4:30 in the morning
(Source: man-of-prose, via ishotgatsby)
All of them fallin’ for the love of ballin’
Got caught with thirty rocks, the cop look like Alec Baldwin
Inter century anthems based off inner city tantrums
Based off the way we was branded
Face it, Jerome get more time than Brandon
And at the airport they check all through my bag
And tell me that it’s random
perfect lyrics from a perfect song from a perfect human
(Source: fairytalesdontfuckinexist, via likethacountry)
oh wowwelllll, i will take it as flattery then. thank you, you kind human c:
i am confused as to if i should be offended or flattered
why is my being beautiful surprising?
truthful liars and
the false fair friends
and the boths and
neithers – you must let them go they
were born
to go"
(Source: arpeggia, via iloveyouletslightourselvesonfire)
