Name: Callam / Age: 17 / Location: England / I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY MY LOVELY, BUT IF FOR WHATEVER REASON YOU'RE NOT, YOU CAN COME AND TALK TO ME AT ANY TIME OF ANY DAY. I'LL BE HERE FOR YOU FROM MORNING 'TILL NIGHT IF YOU NEED ME. You are more than welcome to message me: My Kik is: CaazKilljoy My youtube is: http://www.youtube.com/user/nightfury440 Also, If you'd like: here's some lyrics and poetry I've written: www.allpoetry.com/nightfury440
Guys, seriously. Signal boost. I needed this the other night, and a few weeks ago I was talking with someone who needed it. This is the best freaking thing ever.
My friend got annoyed with My Chemical Romance quotes but hey, if life’s not a joke then why am I laughing?
people with anxiety disorders are so brave like we feel unbearable amounts of anxiety over doing things like going to the doctor or getting on a plane or talking on the phone or taking a test but sometimes we find the strength to do those things anyway even though we’re terrified out of our minds and that’s really amazing. people with anxiety are brave as hell
my dance style ranges from white dad at a barbecue to stripper whose rent is due tomorrow
This is you. This is where all your thoughts are kept. Every other part of your body is used to protect and sustain this.
I want to cry
it’s weirdly comforting to know that all of the meaningless bullshit society judges me on is just a meatsuit made to support the terrifying tentacle beast that is my true form (◡‿◡✿)
THAT LAST COMMENT. BAM.
Sex is not a goddamn performance.
Sex should feel as natural as drinking water.
It should not require confidence.
Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe.
Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.
You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh.
It’s not about being “good in bed.”
It’s about being happy.
One should never worry if they’re doing it “correctly.” Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.
What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you.
Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.
Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be.
I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.
I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want.
Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.
I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.
“Good in bed,” what.
You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you.
Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel.
This isn’t a test.