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Moon Moon

@moonmoon45676

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enrapturex
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clonerightsagenda

The fact that no time travelers have appeared to stop Donald Trump yet suggests one of two things: either he doesn’t win the election or he does and the entire world ends.

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because-im-freaking-greed

Or Ted Cruz was the time traveller, and his participation in the race is part of a stable time loop which leads to Trump becoming President

Ted Cruz’s uncanny behavior and appearance are actually because he is an alien investigating the exact reasons why Earth became a charred cinder in galactic federation year 20967234. He dropped out when he realized the answer and is now making arrangements to be beamed away before it is too late.

unfortunately due to a mishap during the beaming process he is sent to 1960’s northern california and is driven mad and thus becomes the zodiac killer

which we all gave him the idea for in the first place

case closed everyone hit the showers

trust

no drugs can compare to the high i get when i finally understand something in math class

gardenontheceiling

Ganja goddess giveaway

Hello guys!! So I am officially starting my giveaway 🙌🏼 here’s what’s included…

- five packets of Juicy Jay skins (the winner picks the flavour) - two Raw roach books and a glass filter tip - three packets of Double Platinum blunts (the winner picks the flavour) - a cute little bubbler from Belfast’s smoke shop ‘Keep ‘er lit’ - an Indian wall tapestry in royal purple - a Sherlock style glass pipe made from chameleon glass - a large silver grinder from Bulldog Amsterdam

To win you just have to follow me and reblog this post! There will only be one winner, entries close August 16th and entries will be accepted worldwide. You can enter as many times as you like as each entry increases your chance of winning, but please don’t spam your followers! All items are brand new and many come under my personal recommendation 💞

Good luck ✌🏼️🎉

Now also includes 2 meters of hemp wick, some fairy lights and an extra large bar of chocolate 😘

NOW ALSO INCLUDES:

- A double barrel joint holder from Raw - Bong master bong, pipe, hookah and vape cleaner

Adding: - A sparkly glass dabber featuring your zodiac sign at the top - A white feather and bead dream catcher - A scenic nature colouring book

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Do you?

i think the top one is a cat and the bottom one is a pig

godshideouscreation
anyone ever: It's getting hot in here.
my brain: ......so take off all your clothes ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)
me: wtf why??? still? what year is it??????
inkskinned
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inkskinned
i ached to touch her, came apart at the thought of her. she was every thread in my skin, i was always picking her out of my soup, i was full of her to the brim; but yet, without her, empty beyond the horizon.     kissing her was a forest and i was lost in her leaves. her fingers were the warmest thing in this universe, kept us from heat death. she was my eternity, a forever; her laughter ringing alive in my blood long after she was gone.  i lost myself on her hipbones, forgot myself in her arms, her body the river styx i was lucky to drown in. i counted every freckle, kissed her collar bones, melted under her. time stopped between her legs; she created god somewhere on the back of her tongue and i tasted holiness every time she said my name. she undid the laces of my spine, she scooped me off the floor.    we evaporated, licked ourselves off the ceiling. i forgot how to adhere to earth, broke gravity. her moans filled the air and riddled me with arrows. i walked home with her shadow behind me.     she is the kind of girl you can’t forget, she shows up in your soap and you find yourself praying her name at the stars before you realize what you’ve said. she sticks to you. her face shows behind your eyelids.   and you love her for it.

wild ride // r.i.d (via inkskinned)

inkskinned
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inkskinned
there was the threat of “the one.” the one who was really ours. the infinitely perfect match, who completed your puzzle in a way that only fate could have intended. the happy ending.    the soul mate.    we tell our children to hold on to their hearts. we mix our messages, stir the pot, tell them that, like love, sex is only pure if it’s with our “one.” that regret treads in the shadows of young love. that if we gave up our bodies and souls to someone, we’d only end up numb.   we were raised as a generation who could care less. who invented games to pretend we weren’t feeling something. who hid ourselves from how much it hurt. whoever cared least, won. we didn’t text back, we dressed as if we hadn’t planned this outfit. love is for movies, for the one; our lives were trial periods.   we were raised as a generation who couldn’t care more. who bled ourselves dry for the wrong person because we were so obsessed with making someone stick to us that we couldn’t let them out of our lives even if they were intent on running. we slammed the door on the people who were toxic to us only to open it again, bawling. we carefully mapped asking her out, only for our tongues to falter at the last minute. we loved loudly, in public; we love wild.    we couldn’t balance it. we ruin perfect relationships on some magical idea that the real “one” would have some kind of universal indicator of our match. we saw flaws where there didn’t need to be any, for no other reason than because we were worried. what if he seems perfect but six years down the road while we’re married, you find the “one” who happens to be your best friend from grade school. what if she cheats. what if you’re both just caught up in illusion.   we couldn’t balance it. we’d stay in the worst of situations because of illogical reasons. we’d given him our virginity, we couldn’t leave. she was what your parents wanted, even though she was mean. the course of true love never did run smooth, we’d whisper. we’d picture our future selves married to them and our stomachs would drop. but we’d hold on. we needed to prove ourselves. that our love wasn’t wrong.    “when you find the one, you’ll know,”   but you don’t. the average person falls in love eight times before they find someone. eight little loves that are all bone-deep. that all are people we wish we could keep. that feel real and feel clean.    the right one is the one you make work. it’s the person who finishes you but also finishes the dishes. who talks about the small things instead of letting fate decide them. who knows that they’re not perfect and neither are you. who might not have been your childhood best friend, but sure knows you better than anyone.   true love poisoned us. we search for something that’s been marketed as the only real love. but love isn’t the kiss to wake us up. love isn’t happily ever after, running from the “wrong marriage” to kiss our rediscovered ex-boyfriend. true love doesn’t come with signs and fairy godmothers and instantly liking each other’s favorite candies.   true love is the kiss that wakes us up so we can get ready, even though he could sleep in. it’s little things. it’s doing the laundry even though it’s her turn. it’s gently talking about the other person’s demons until both of you are raw, but healing. it’s buying her the box of junior mints even though you never liked them.     the “one” is a myth. it only means, “the one who works to make sure you two fit.”

Soulmate(??) // r.i.d (via inkskinned)