Since I moved to Australia, friends and family keep commenting on how happy I look now. This is undoubtably a good thing, but it doesn’t stop the thoughts of, ‘what did I look like before? Was I that miserable around your presence?’
I feel like a cutter left with only the scars.
I haven’t, but, fuck I must have looked sad….
Bourbon nightcaping, talking to my friends back home and watching Texas Chainsaw with a Rottweiler asleep at my feet.
Imagine if everyone had tumblr instead of Facebook
"There’s only one way to roll like a big dog in an indifferent world:
with one hand on yo nuts!
Embrace that you ain’t gonna escape a DAYUM thing, especially death."
— Thug Notes on “The Stranger” by Camus (via chroniclesofachemist)