what is there to say. i'm nothing to write home about. i am a pawn trapped in the war, the smell right before it rains. i am just passing through this place; trying to leave my mark in an unmark-able world.


Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple…

JK Rowling, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: 500-days-of-autumn)

the gap between what we say and what we feel is so big and dark that sometimes i think i’ll fall into it and just keep falling…

how do i find myself again after i got lost in a heart that doesn’t want me anymore? 

The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there…and still on your feet.