(Source: typewriter-music, via whisperingletters)
wannabe writer
imaginary photographer
real life thinker
ask me anything
or i steal them from somewhere else
we made the moon our mirrorball the street’s an empty stage the city’s sirens, violins every thing has changed.
We have our life already planned out.
Hey, Liam. Hey. This will be us soon. Or whenever you decide to move to the States.
Can I find this sort of feeling again, possibly?