(Source: groundedonthedaily, via gingersnaap)

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myfirstnameisjackson:

The First World Problem

By Jackson C. Davis

They say my problems are “first world problems.”

As if that means my middle-class, commercialized mind can’t wrap around the inexactitudes of tomorrow, the relentlessness of yesterday, and the realness of today. And if that’s true, well damn…what the hell am I doing here?

Because last time I checked, I’m the one here transposing my “mainstream soul” not into ones and zeros, but breathing letters that cling together like that unorthodox family in the slums I “just can’t comprehend.” But I’m here aren’t I?

Perhaps my metaphors and epithets do lack truth and substance, but hell, at least they’re mine.

I guess I’ll never be one of them because I care just as much about the commas and the colons as the words that interweave between them.

The irony of it all is that the longer I continue this lifestyle that I wasn’t born into, the louder the shouts will be that I am merely a mirage of a reflection of culture I couldn’t possibly ever relate to. But what they don’t realize is that reflection…that reflection that an empty suburban shell could never grasp because it’s too deep, is my being. And it’s staring back at you. If you can, try to look past the blue eyes and see the blue running through my veins that struggles to find the beat.

I am J.D., but I am also Holden. 

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(Source: ble4ched-bl00d, via enchanted-l-o-v-e)

the day i can get my hair to look like this….

(Source: killer----queen)

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its love

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i less than three this.

(Source: nevver)