“I’ll do anything. I’ll assassinate all the stars of all of your bad dreams.
I’ll be all yours just as long as you stay here with me ‘cause I don’t wanna be alone when these walls start closing in.”—Modern Life Is War (via kissthatmotherfuckergoodnight)
I had a shooting pain going from the top of my arm, down my arm and into my elbow, and then also down and into my chest. Convinced it was a heart attack I woke up my dad, and then proceeded to throw up.
But two weeks home cripple me because the trees don’t pass and the lines don’t move as the white walls collapse on my ramblin’ boy blues that’s howlin’ howlin’ for that open road because no arms can hold no home can warm like the gaze of the rays of a distant lost-highway sun