Smile Pretty, You Sick Fuck.
Amanda. Alive & above.

(Source: bartonfinks)

(Source: v0tum)

fierocity:

imyobabyy:

lady-medic:

In case anyone wanted to know what a lightening strike can do to the body- given that they survive.

Woah

I’ve reblogged this before but I didn’t know it was from a lightning strike. That’s insane.

fierocity:

imyobabyy:

lady-medic:

In case anyone wanted to know what a lightening strike can do to the body- given that they survive.

Woah

I’ve reblogged this before but I didn’t know it was from a lightning strike. That’s insane.

(Source: onceavegun)

GOOGLE SEARCH:
Painless ways to kill yourself.

i. There is no painless way to kill yourself, someone, somewhere, will feel the pain.

ii. The internet says, “sleeping pills, you will fall asleep and never wake up! You won’t feel a thing!” When that is a lie, your stomach will turn to fire and your throat will fill with the taste of your own stomach acid. You will drown in your own spit. That isn’t even the worst party, it’s when your mother comes home from work. She will walk through the door, and call out your name. She will call and call and there will be no response, maybe you’re in the shower? Maybe you’re asleep? She will walk up the stairs, knock on your door to receive no answer. When she walks in she will see the lifeless body of her baby girl, lying on the floor. Her heart will stop but she will run to you with shaky knees, touching your face that is now still and cold. Her body will be on fire, and her throat will begin to tighten, the sharp pains in her chest will feel like knives in the heart. That image will kill her more than her own death, it will haunt her living years each night. She will no longer be alive, but just as dead as you are now.

iii. Years ago, your father showed you the gun safe he kept in the house in case of emergencies, you knew the pass code, you knew how to shoot and loud, at least you had an idea. They say a bullet to the brain will do the job.. So one night, when your father is fast asleep, you will be down the hallway staring down the mouth of a gun.
One, two, three..
Your father’s heart will jump and his body will follow, the first thing he thinks of is you. He will scream your name and run down the hallway and bang on your door. It’s locked. His knees begin to feel weak as he bruises his body trying to knock down the door, the first sight he see’s in blood splattered on the wall. At that moment his breath began to stop, and his eyes wandered to yours. Still open, but no more life inside your shell. He will drop to his hands and knees and scream why, why, why. There will never be a day he won’t hate himself, for keeping a gun in the house, for not making you happy, for not knowing. He will live a life without a son, live a life with an empty space. Live a life of hurt, and hatred for himself.

iv. You may think that when you’re dead and gone you will not be hurting anyone. You may think when you slide a blade across your wrist, you’re only hurting yourself. Yet I have learned that is not true, it’s not. The person who will find your body, the one who see’s the cuts, their chest will feel tight and they will feel like it was their fault for letting it get this far. The only mark you will be leaving on them is pain, hurt, and the question why? So please note this, there is pain in every suicide attempt, every death, every cut. You are not only hurting your life, but others too. Because you are cared for.

i.c. // “There is always pain in death, maybe not felt by the one dying, but felt by the lives of the deceased.” (via delicatepoetry)
memeguy-com:

I really dont know how to describe this

memeguy-com:

I really dont know how to describe this

turntechdestiel:

thedoctor-and-his-trolls:

twatsaw:

hiphopdreamin:

lightsareout:

weallhavegunsforhands:

setfabulazerstomaximumcaptain:

The guy in the sleeping bag wiggling around
I’m weeping

The two people in the front wearing one shirt.

Are we really not going to talk about the guy in the back who is attached to another guy’s back while spinning?


WHAT ABOUT THE GUY THAT FALLS OUT OF THE WINDOW

WHY IS IT BACK

no you guys don’t understand, not only is this the first harlem shake out there… these guys aren’t normal military. This is “Telemarkbataljonen”. They’re pretty much the Norwegian equivalent of the fucking black ops. My brother knows a guy in this battalion, and when asked what they do there, he looked my brother dead in the eye and said “That is strictly confidential”. These guys are hard as shit, which makes this even more hilarious

turntechdestiel:

thedoctor-and-his-trolls:

twatsaw:

hiphopdreamin:

lightsareout:

weallhavegunsforhands:

setfabulazerstomaximumcaptain:

The guy in the sleeping bag wiggling around

I’m weeping

The two people in the front wearing one shirt.

Are we really not going to talk about the guy in the back who is attached to another guy’s back while spinning?

WHAT ABOUT THE GUY THAT FALLS OUT OF THE WINDOW

WHY IS IT BACK

no you guys don’t understand, not only is this the first harlem shake out there… these guys aren’t normal military. This is “Telemarkbataljonen”. They’re pretty much the Norwegian equivalent of the fucking black ops. My brother knows a guy in this battalion, and when asked what they do there, he looked my brother dead in the eye and said “That is strictly confidential”. These guys are hard as shit, which makes this even more hilarious

(Source: 4gifs)

It’s easy to feel hopeful on a beautiful day like today, but there will be dark days ahead of us, too. There will be days where you feel all alone. And that’s when hope is needed most. No matter how buried it gets, or how lost you feel, you must promise me that you will hold onto hope. Keep it alive. We have to be greater than what we suffer. My wish for you is to become hope. People need that. And even if you fail, what better way is there to live? As we look around here today, at all of the people who helped make us who we are, I know it feels like we’re saying goodbye. But we will carry a piece of each other into everything that we do next, to remind us of who we are. And of who we’re meant to be. I’ve had a great four years with you, and I’ll miss you all very much.

(Source: sethsummer)