Paint Brushes and Blood

Szia, i'm Anna, i like to draw and i worry too much.

thestarlighthotel:

Kirsty Mitchell’s late mother Maureen was an English teacher who spent her life inspiring generations of children with imaginative stories and plays. Following Maureen’s death from a brain tumour in 2008, Kirsty channelled her grief into her passion for photography.

She retreated behind the lens of her camera and created Wonderland, an ethereal fantasy world. The photographic series began as a small summer project but grew into an inspirational creative journey.

‘Real life became a difficult place to deal with, and I found myself retreating further into an alternative existence through the portal of my camera,’ said the artist. (read the rest here).

(via romanticdarkness)


“There’s a man called the Doctor who lives on a cloud in the sky and he keeps the bad dreams away. But he lost all his friends and now he is so very lonely.”Inspired by the new Trailer, done with watercolors!I am sorry for the bad quality, it was too huge for my scanner.by farbenfrei

There’s a man called the Doctor who lives on a
cloud in the sky and he keeps the bad dreams away.
But he lost all his friends and now he is so very lonely.


Inspired by the new Trailer, done with watercolors!
I am sorry for the bad quality, it was too huge for my scanner.
by farbenfrei

(via emilycorpsebride)

you don’t really understand pain until you leave the house without headphones

(Source: ermma-louise, via morphin--e)

Maybe if you left me alone, I would get better.

kristingrey:

mishas-assbutts:

7 seasons of the most heterosexual cast.

YES.

(via starsinthegutter)

starsinthegutter:

“Cry like a child…though these years make me older…” 

Morning would have never been the same… How many times were you my only friend? your voice like a warm blanket against my skin, drawing me in and holding me in all that was wrong… you taught me to see the failings in life… to give up on caring about them… To find strength in love, to ignore them all when they ignored me…

How many times did you fall victim to it? collapsing to the ground in convulsions, your heart racing out of your chest… powerless to that which you did not create… how many times did i fall to the ground… screaming with my head spinning out of my reach, powerless to that which you opened my eyes to….?  I can say, without hesitation, I know the feeling.

R.I.P Ian, I am not sure the world will ever be the same without you in it.

starsinthegutter:

“Cry like a child…though these years make me older…” 

Morning would have never been the same… How many times were you my only friend? your voice like a warm blanket against my skin, drawing me in and holding me in all that was wrong… you taught me to see the failings in life… to give up on caring about them… To find strength in love, to ignore them all when they ignored me…

How many times did you fall victim to it? collapsing to the ground in convulsions, your heart racing out of your chest… powerless to that which you did not create… how many times did i fall to the ground… screaming with my head spinning out of my reach, powerless to that which you opened my eyes to….?  I can say, without hesitation, I know the feeling.

R.I.P Ian, I am not sure the world will ever be the same without you in it.


July 15, 1956 — May 18, 1980

July 15, 1956 — May 18, 1980

(Source: slicingeyeballs, via gothikka01)