(via lucents)

(via alwaysheadstrong)

i’ve just stumbled upon this from ten years ago..

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/2096082.stm

i have strong (and kind of fond; in a nostalgic way) memories of sitting on my nan’s garden bench and hearing mad mick coming up the drive. you could always hear him before you could see him. he’d always be alone, talking loudly to himself. or singing even louder. he wore headphones and carried a walkman in his hand. he seemed to me about 7ft tall, and his blonde, frizzy head would bob because he’d take massive strides and teenage boys would try and keep up with him. “alright mad mick!” “eh mad mick, what’re you listening to?”. i remember the atmosphere was exciting, and little bit tense because the adults around me would go quiet as not to attract his attention. nobody did get his attention though. then george did. poor george.

that time i stole somebody’s amaretto and cranberry..

that time i stole somebody’s amaretto and cranberry..

(Source: filigree-daisy, via supernormal)

attractive person: hi
me: is this some kind of sick joke
— Albert Einstein

(Source: rimatakesphotos, via merriweather)


(via leastlittlething)

(Source: infinite-gratitude, via coloredmondays)

(Source: rittle-king, via coloredmondays)

(via sasa-kama)

— Naguib Mahfouz, Sugar Street

(Source: itsfromabook, via lord-kitschener)


(via pleonastically)

(Source: teen-witches)

— Eden Philpotts

(Source: thesummerofmark, via leavestoroots)