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Mischief always wins the war.


All I do is play guitar, draw on things, write on everything else, smoke a fuck ton of cigarettes, drive around for hours, drink my weight in coffee, listen to heaps of music, make shit, break shit, bake shit, bake myself, think too many thoughts and care a bit more than I should. Sup.

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That cool time when you can’t do anything productive or structural with your life because as soon as you decide to lay off being permabaked every moment you’re not unconcious, you remember how defeated and broken you are and why you decided to smoke your brains into oblivion to begin with. FUCK.

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"That’s who you really like. The people you can think out loud in front of."

- John Green

(Source: in-finitus, via funeral)

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