Listening to Don Moen and Hillsong today. My iPod is working again and a couple of worship songs come on shuffle when I was on the way to work and then my head kept popping up Manic Drive and Skillet throughout the day.

I need to go back to Church. I’ve not been for a long time - I went to a wedding a month or so back, but before then? Before my interview I prayed, and I remembered how I haven’t prayed for so long.

And I think that that’s why I’ve been feeling so numb recently. I’ve been making important decisions and trying to sort my life out without involving God. I don’t know what I believe any more but going back to Church seems like it would be a good start.

  • me: *sees dog*
  • me: *forgets what im talking about and points out dog*

black-white-madness:

Madness:

Mother of London Tural Belt

My body literally aches at the thought of never seeing you again.

bencumber:

that shaky thing your voice does when you’re confronting someone or speaking up for yourself is the worst damn thing it’s like you have no intentions of crying but your nervousness overcomes your vocal cords and you end up looking like such a weak shit

(via urbanclictionary)

(via bloodypounds)

My words are worthless
Dark and small
Threads entwined hung on the sky
Torn down again with every sound
Trampled and crushed, lost underfoot
Used and meaningless and gone
I could save no-one
Not myself, not you
Not with a word or drop of blood
Pills or syllables – it’s all the same
Small and dark
My words are worthless

© Joanna Waluszewski 03/08/2014

#poem  #mine  #words  

(via ilsorrisodichisoffrivadentro)

La vida es trágica, otra taza de café por favor.

E (Memorias de Urbania)

(via denisesoyletras)

oldmanspooky:

timelordshavetwohearts:

leupagus:

sansaofhousestark:

arianne—martell:

Every time I think of the black market, I actually imagine a market, with little stalls selling illegal things like nuclear weapons and organs.

I THOUGHT I WAS ALONE

WAIT SO THAT’S NOT WHAT IT IS

"QUICK THE COPS ARE COMING!" *everyone frantically tries to collapse their trestle tables*

(via alltheselittlevoices)