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1. I hated Metallica.

Fucking ironic. Like in 4th grade there was this kid I hated (just imagine a big prick and you have him. He always made me feel bad and sometimes Mr. Prick made me cry even) and he loved them. Little shit thought he was like superior just cause he liked the heavy, different stuff. So he kinda bashed them into my face and was all like “I like the good stuff. You like shit” so I didn’t get the best image at first.

To make matters worse everybody told me that metal was just noise and satanic and I thought it was true.

But like here we are. *guffaw*

2. I love sunsets. I love them with my heart.

When I was around 7 I witnessed the most killer sunset ever. I was at the countryside in a place at my country that’s famous for some of the most beautiful sunsets, so around 5:50 I just saw all these fucking colors.

The sky was on fire man.

I laid there gawking like a fool and so from then on that’s pretty much my reaction everytime. It’s one my most treasured memories tbh.

(It was something like this but like 359 times cooler)

Thanks btw


(Source: inn0thingwetrust)


“That’s one of the great things about music. You can sing a song to 85,000 people and they’ll sing it back for 85,000 different reasons.” — Dave Grohl  (via meggannn)

(Source: psych-facts)


Purple: 10 facts about my room.
Blue: 9 facts about my family.
Green: 8 facts about my body
Yellow: 7 facts about my childhood
Orange: 6 facts about my home town.
Red: 5 facts about my bestfriend(s).
Pink: 4 facts about my parents.
White: 3 facts about my personality.
Grey: 2 facts about my favourite things
Black: 1 fact about the person I like.

(Source: keepitfr3sh)


(Source: pinklysmooth)


(Source: sapphirechicken)


awkwardnarturtle:

i-mahu:

There’s two types of anger one is dry and the other wet and basically wet anger is when your eyes water and your voice shakes and I hate that cause I feel weak when I’m crying while angry I like dry anger when your face is like stone and your voice is sharp I guess wet anger shows that you care too much and dry anger means you’re done.

This is the best description ever


  • me: im so tired, i could collapse into bed and sleep for a year..
  • me: gets in bed
  • me: how was earth created
  • me: who made microwaves
  • me: how does the internet even work
  • me: i'm hungry
  • me: feels bad about something i did 4 years ago
  • me: remembers 73 unfinished tasks
  • me: too tired to sleep

(Source: lovejohnpaulringogeorge)


(Source: motopsychoo)


inn0thingwetrust:

Metallica - The Unforgiven

(Source: orangeskins)


“Live in such a way that if someone spoke badly of you, no one would believe it.” — (via cavum)

(Source: aurelle)


(Source: guns-n-fuckin-roses)


their high school principal
told me I couldn’t teach
poetry with profanity
so I asked my students,
“Raise your hand if you’ve heard of the Holocaust.”
in unison, their arms rose up like poisonous gas
then straightened out like an SS infantry
“Okay. Please put your hands down.
Now raise your hand if you’ve heard of the Rwandan genocide.”
blank stares mixed with curious ignorance
a quivering hand out of the crowd
half-way raised, like a lone survivor
struggling to stand up in Kigali
“Luz, are you sure about that?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.”

“Carlos—what’s genocide?”

they won’t let you hear the truth at school
if that person says “fuck”
can’t even talk about “fuck”
even though a third of your senior class
is pregnant.

I can’t teach an 18-year-old girl in a public school
how to use a condom that will save her life
and that of the orphan she will be forced
to give to the foster care system—
“Carlos, how many 13-year-olds do you know that are HIV-positive?”

“Honestly, none. But I do visit a shelter every Monday and talk with
six 12-year-old girls with diagnosed AIDS.”
while 4th graders three blocks away give little boys blowjobs during recess
I met an 11-year-old gang member in the Bronx who carries
a semi-automatic weapon to study hall so he can make it home
and you want me to censor my language

“Carlos, what’s genocide?”

your books leave out Emmett Till and Medgar Evers
call themselves “World History” and don’t mention
King Leopold or diamond mines
call themselves “Politics in the Modern World”
and don’t mention Apartheid

“Carlos, what’s genocide?”

you wonder why children hide in adult bodies
lie under light-color-eyed contact lenses
learn to fetishize the size of their asses
and simultaneously hate their lips
my students thought Che Guevara was a rapper
from East Harlem
still think my Mumia t-shirt is of Bob Marley
how can literacy not include Phyllis Wheatley?
schools were built in the shadows of ghosts
filtered through incest and grinding teeth
molded under veils of extravagant ritual

“Carlos, what’s genocide?”

“Roselyn, how old was she? Cuántos años tuvo tu madre cuando se murió?”

“My mother had 32 years when she died. Ella era bellísima.”

…what’s genocide?

they’ve moved from sterilizing “Boriqua” women
injecting indigenous sisters with Hepatitis B,
now they just kill mothers with silent poison
stain their loyalty and love into veins and suffocate them

…what’s genocide?

Ridwan’s father hung himself
in the box because he thought his son
was ashamed of him

…what’s genocide?

Maureen’s mother gave her
skin lightening cream
the day before she started the 6th grade

…what’s genocide?

she carves straight lines into her
beautiful brown thighs so she can remember
what it feels like to heal

…what’s genocide?
…what’s genocide?

“Carlos, what’s genocide?”

“Luz, this…
this right here…
is genocide.”

” — Carlos Andres Gomez, What’s Genocide?  (via thewastedgeneration)

(Source: dogfishtail)