Sometimes I think about those high res Jupiter pics and then think about Van Gogh and get emotional because it’s like this one, lonely man that didn’t experience an ounce of fame or recognition in his life time had the image of the universe in his head and he didn’t know it.
Jupiter and Van Gogh’s Starry Night.
(via living-on-the-ark)

(via compulsive)

(via compulsive)
Here is the goddamn thing:
I’m tired of feeling like a burden to everyone who knows me. I’m tired of my emotions running and ruining my life. I’m tired of not being good enough or being too much or being not enough. I’m tired of me just not being who people need me to be. I’m tired of being a mental illness, a breakdown, a letdown. I’m tired of being letdown. I’m just tired.
Graveyard - Halsey

I would like to die now

(Source: iamquietlydrowning, via i-wont-apologize-for-being-me)
(via living-on-the-ark)
Let’s play: are these emotions real or is my brain fucking with me after confirming hypomania?






