(via heresatoasttothejumpbackhome)

dichotomization:

In 1933, a girl dressed all in blue came to Willoughby, Ohio on a Greyhound bus. She stayed the night in a boarding house before spending the next day greeting everyone with heartfelt warmth. At the end of the day, she saw the train to New York approach, dropped her cases, sprinted for the track, was hit by the train and died of her injuries. No one knew her name for 60 years, yet 3,000 people attended her funeral. And no one will ever know if it was an accident or suicide.

(Source: blackvist, via justaimeewantsyourface)

freckeling:

freckeling:

girl crush
freemilkshakes:

appereal:

every single night

yep,every single night
shewantsthelsd:

As I write this letter, the ocean breeze feels cool on my skin. The very ocean is soon to be my grave. They tell me I will die a hero, that the safety and honor of my country will be the reward for my sacrifice. I pray they are right.
My only regret in life is never telling you how I feel. I wish I were back home. I wish I were holding your hand. I wish I were telling you that I have loved you and only you since I was a boy. But I am not. I see now that death is easy. It is love that is hard. As my plane dives, I will not see the face of my enemies. I will only, instead, see your eyes. Like black rocks frozen in rain water. They tell us that we must scream, “Banzai” as we plunge into our target. I will instead whisper your name. And in death, as in life, I will remain forever yours.
- Hiroshi’s Last Letter