i can't fit the feelings in
Hi my name is Lorne and this is my piece of internet space. I'm 21 years old and identify as queer. Here you'll find music, art, photographs and writing, with some NSFW content. If you'd like to talk or say hello, my inbox is always open.
17,581 notes
14 August


BREAKING NEWS: The name of the officer who shot - NAME: OFFICER WILLMAN, BRYAN P. , Respondent -

2,580 notes
14 August
39,886 notes
14 August



canadians stop commenting on posts like you aint fuckin kill ya native population

brits stop commenting on posts like you aint colonize and enslave like 90% of the globe bc this shit is essentially your fault if you wanna be fuckin real


The fact that our wonderful PM wants to basically model our government after urs is pretty unsettling to many of us though. It hits pretty close to home when just last year, the police did something similar in New Brunswick to the native people. Didn’t see much coverage on that, though. Just eyewitness accounts on social media.

(Source: zanemalicks)

173 notes
14 August

So we’re standing here in the laundry room
All hopped up on fireball whiskey,
And you can’t seem to let go of me.

And I cannot let go of you.
We’re all hopped up on fireball whiskey,
And we call it love through our inebriated state.

You tell me how your lover sleeps
Beyond the door of your apartment.
Locked into his dream state,
He won’t hear a thing.

And I’m crying,
I’m always crying over spilled milk,
And I’m always crying for you
To love me instead.

Here, you have two lovers from which to choose
And you can’t make up your mind.
One is in your bed, and the other
On your doorstep.

Drunk and for yourself only, you are crying now.
We’re turning back into children
Who act too much like men.
We are crying together again, and it feels
Less like June and more like last July.

The sun is coming up,
And you’re angry I won’t fuck you.
You only get hard when you are hurting someone.
You broke me, baby,

Because now I can’t get hard
Unless someone is hurting me,
And no one hurts me like you do.

We take another shot and leave
This laundry room for food, when
Your hands touch the inside of my thigh.
I can finally slide them off.

Go to sleep next to Thom, he’s a nice boy
Who can rough both of us up a bit.
Just enough for it to register as a seismic flow.
I know, because before you,

He kissed me over loose stones in the gravel pit
Where we used to drink in school,
And I walked away with scrapes
Up my back to prove it.

So we’re sitting in the south end
Of a mild Edmonton summer,
Crying in your laundry room,
Both of us are spilling over
While the bottle becomes empty.

Lorne Ryan, The Laundry Room
31,491 notes
14 August


fuuuuuck smh

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14 August
221,312 notes
14 August

This is really fucking powerful.


This is really fucking powerful.

49,371 notes
14 August

(Source: cockbarf)

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14 August
181,805 notes
14 August


i get anxious for people who fall asleep on public transit. like where is your home? how many stops have you missed? this was not a time for a nap