Conscious Subconscious
New York Bounded 19 Year Old...
  • myheadisweak:




    Update, 4:30 p.m.: The ACLU, responding to BuzzFeed's Chris Geidner on Twitter, says that the officer involved in the incident described above has been removed from duty following a public ACLU complaint.



    this is great and all but lets observe the fact that the moment a WHITE journalist is threatened, action is taken…while Michael Brown’s murderer still walks freely and the police officers threatening the lives of black people/hitting them with tear gas and rubber bullets are still on the clock 

    the media being threatened is the best thing that could have happened to white America because now they can stop caring about the majority Black citizens of Ferguson and start focusing on the white people being hurt

    Schellman called the entire incident “inappropriate” and said it was “not indicative of the officers who have worked daily to keep the peace” in Ferguson.”

    How many ‘isolated incidents’ can you have though

    • 15853
    • 15853
  • 2damnfeisty:


    So you telling me that the U.S has completely cured the American doctor with Ebola in 26 days and he’s being released today. While Africa has been dealing with it since the 70’s and they are still looking for a cure.


    Are we surprised?

    (via whitegirlsaintshit)

    • 6810
  • nicolezai:


    (Source: husssel)

    • 44031
    • 44031
  • hereunoia:

    He began letters with goodbye

    so she wouldn’t fear the ending.

    — Alaska Gold.

    (via smokesession101)

    • 103
  • Announcement!


    Your life does NOT have to be bad in order to give you a reason to do hard drugs.

    You can have an amazing life and still do drugs.

    Do not assume that people are addicts because they have something wrong in their life

    Just don’t let it fuck up your life.
    • 27
  • downfalling:


    Ahh Future Wifey

    (via bellaricanx3)

    • 37078
    • 37078
  • renastasteinlife:

    "You need technique Squidward"

    (Source: thinking-in-the-shower, via ruinedchildhood)

    • 130222
    • 130222
  • prettyboypancho:




    The divide between black tumblr.

    I’ve never seen anything so accurate.


    My favorite post

    (Source: vici0us, via plut0child)

    • 50233
    • 50233
  • 05px:



    (via ruinedchildhood)

    • 420988
  • selfprescribedstoner:

    Loop Pipe

    (via kaitimacc)

    • 31202
    • 31202
  • themstennant:













    “Someone should write a book where the main character slowly falls in love with the reader.”

    Last line of the book : “Please, don’t close the book, I don’t want to die”

    oh my god

    I’d just like, keep the book open and tape it to a wall.

    I’m almost afraid to want it.

    John Green, we’re waiting.

    “So I guess this is it, isn’t it? There are no more chapters, right? You said we were getting close and that was a while ago.”

    I stared up into the sky, it was the same old sky there had always been, except for some rainclouds that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. It wasn’t raining, but they were still floating up there, grey and dismal.

    You begin to ask me something.

    “Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. Things just feel really final right now, like the downward slope is starting to level out. Eventually… We’ll hit the back cover, right?”

    I sat down on a bench- had that been there a few minutes ago? It was hard to tell.

    “Did you say yes? I think I heard you. Your voice keeps getting harder to hear.”

    Thunder rumbled, but… It wasn’t like the thunder I’m used to. It sounded like you, and it sounded sad. From one of the clouds, a single drop of rain fell on the grainy wood of the bench.

    “… You’re crying, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I wish I could change this. I wish I could reach where you are.”

    Thunder rolled again, and behind it was a voice. Your voice.

    “Me? I’ll be fine, I think. I don’t know if this has ever happened before. I don’t really know what happens when you… close the book.”

    You ask me if I’m afraid.

    And oddly, I’m not.

    “No, actually. Because… Whatever happens to me when you close the cover… You can always open the book up again, right?” and that’s when the answer hits me, the realization jolting me to stand again. “That’s it, isn’t it? You can open it back up. The words won’t change, but I’ll still be here. You can meet me all over again, and I can meet you, and everything we have will come back.”

    It’s raining now, and the clouds have merged together, and in them, for the first time… I see you. 

    You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my entire life.

    You’re crying, but it’s quiet, and maybe that was the sound of your tears hitting paper.

    I realize that we don’t have a lot of time.

    “Listen- before it’s all over- I want you to know that everything, all of this… Even being over, it was worth it. It was worth it to meet you, to get to know you. Even if when you close that cover and I disappear- it was all worth it. I love you.”

    You love me too, I know it, I can feel it, just like for a moment I can feel what it would be like to hold your hand.

    There is a very long pause, and I realize you’re prolonging what has to happen.

    “You can do it.”

    For the first time, you have to be the hero. You have to close the book so we can keep going. And I believe in you.

    The sky gets darker, slowly, but then it gets light again, and your face is still up in those clouds. You open your mouth and for the first time I HEAR you, not just feel what you’re saying or understand you in my own head, your voice comes through the pages in your world and into the reality of mine, and it reverberates and I can hear every little nuance, down to the hitch from you crying.

    “I’ll never forget you,” you say. “I’ll come back soon.”

    The end.


    Plot Twist: 

    “I love you.” She whispered softly closing the book. Her fantasy must end and he must die with it no matter how great their love. Tears fell from her eyes, landing upon the hard worn cover of her most beloved book. The book in which lied the love of her life. The book that loved her back. She ached to open it again but she could not continue like this. She must move on and live a life not in her precious book. Sobs racked her body as she walked to the self, hesitantly sliding her beloved book into the shelf. It was only for a time, she told herself. That she would come back again and read the story of her love again and that she may fall in love again. Whipping her eyes she turned toward the door, but froze in her tracks. A man stood there, concern lining his every feature. She knew that face. It was exactly as she had pictured it, from every line of his jaw to the exact color of his eyes. This can’t be possible.

    “Why are you crying?”  Oh, his voice. That was his voice. It was as soothing as she had imagined. Her knees grew week and her mind went numb. She struggled for words as he approached her slowly, he knelt before her and touched her cheek, worry etched in his gentle movement. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

    She could only choke out, “You’re real?”



    I don’t remember if I rebloged it the last time I read it, but since I cried even though I already knew what was going to happen, it deserves to be here again if I did.

    Not even caring if this has anything to do with my blog.

    (via thegirlwithcaramelskin)

    • 592812
    • 592812
  • africant:


    (Source: ibaaad, via ruby-brown)

    • 326684
    • 326684
  • (Source: elijahhasnolife, via justapoet)

    • 254356
    • 254356
  • higheramerica:

    When I’m really blazed at the dinner table around my parents.

    Follow @higheramerica

    (via justapoet)

    • 230
    • 230