the concept of how sir arthur conan doyle was as a person always sends me into fits. imagine making the most famous literary character of all time but you hate the character so much you try to kill him off. but everyone is so horny for this asshole detective they make you bring him back. even your own mother gets mad when he’s dead because she likes him. raising your prices to ridiculous rates to avoid writing holmes stories backfired and now you’re rich. it’s absolutely a pain because it’s keeping you from your true passion which is spiritualism despite how one of your good friends harry houdini keeps telling you it’s bullshit. you consider your best novels to be historical ones but they’re well over shadowed by the nemesis of your own creation sherlock fucking holmes. some fake photographs from some kids convinced you faeries were real and you wrote a whole book about it. you started writing stories in medical school. and yes, also you are a doctor. after you’re dead, they erect a statue of sherlock holmes across the street from your birthplace, causing you to probably roll over one hundred eighty degrees in your grave and scream into your casket pillow.
(via wormspeddler)
moby dick is a great reminder that hunting a rare whale can be challenging at times
sowed some stuff but i’m thinking i might not reap it. if it sucks i’ll probably just not reap it.
there is no need to say strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, blackberries and boysenberries. you are among friends. you may say “fruits of the forest”.
At least Lana Del Rey understands
Lol right? ^
*Sings confidently*
She’s not me.. 😉
(There is only one, and some of y'all should be ashamed of asking me or wanting me to be anyone else
But please bby, set the ghost in your machine free 😂😘)
First picture is me in the berenstain universe seconf is me in the berenstein universe
I have to pee. I have to put laundry in the drier. I want to eat some sweet snakcks. I need to shower. I need to plan a lucid dream for a bunch of my friends pretending to be little animals with swords
wish they still made you lick stamps todays world is so devoid of intimacy
(via winemom-culture)
sometimes i remember βi canβt carry it for you, but i can carry youβ and i
and i.
(via margbarcis)






