forgotten.crimes  ‹ of oceans, dreams, music, and everything else in between ›
  ask me, tell me // listen // iodinee // read

하고 싶은 말은 해야 돼
안 그러면 정말 병이 돼

— Teddy Bear RIses by OOHYO

(Source: caskr, via fuckyeahkindie)

What was lost was lost. There was no retrieving it, however you schemed, no returning to how things were, no going back.
Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, Haruki Murakami

(Source: jubilee-tea)

∞: Sydney

I unofficially graduated y’all !!! I’m so grateful that I passed my most fearful unit this semesterd (looking at you, Treasury) and I managed to score two border-line HDs. And because of that, I managed to increase my GPA just a little, and my WAM just a little as well. So, so thankful to my parents for allowing me to come here and experience all these things.

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(Source: grett, via sexhaustive)

This winter has made me appreciate hot beverages and teas.

anotic:

Untitled  |  pawik

anotic:

Untitled  |  pawik

(via dancingwiththedead)

So I will be moving out of my room tomorrow. I will stay with a friend of mine at another friend’s place for 10 days, and then move to Carnegie until 21st of September. I have packed almost half of my clothes that I won’t be wearing and shipped them off to A’s new place to be stored. It was such a work out for both of us as we used the public transport. 

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(Source: bronsonsnelling, via cuntented)

swj-01:

흔들리는 물결사이로 지나가는 햇빛

swj-01:

흔들리는 물결사이로 지나가는 햇빛

(via areumdw)

(Source: artchipel, via antiquette)

I try not to live in the past but sometimes the past lives in me.
Jamie Ford, Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet

(Source: splitterherzen, via conceptnoir)

(Source: bernardo-dinis, via ileu)

youthride:

view from my parking lot

youthride:

view from my parking lot

(Source: ellaej, via eletheowl)

But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drink, the very air I breathe, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning.
Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (via souls-entwined)

(Source: splitterherzen, via eletheowl)