Stars, hide your fires

Gwen. 18. British. Art enthusiast, Film fanatic and avid reader.

this is not a spoiler free blog

brook:

samurott:

why do chihuahuas looks like they are scared the whole time

who wouldn’t be afraid in this economy

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In the gentle fall of rain from Heaven, I hear my God. But in the thunder, I still hear Thor.

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It takes time in the morning for me to become George, time to adjust to what is expected of George and how he is to behave. By the time I have dressed and put the final layer of polish on the now slightly stiff but quite perfect George I know fully what part I’m suppose to play. Looking in the mirror staring back at me isn’t so much a face as the expression of a predicament. 

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ifollowbadblogs:

me before i tried alcohol 

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