Posts tagged "Life"
"How profound everything is in life around me, yet these teen sheeple won’t shut the fuck up about Justin Bieber and Abercrombie. I can’t even talk to someone seriously without sounding like some sort of weirdo because, apparently, thought and philosophy is taboo, but wearing certain types of weaved cloth that costs hundreds of dollars and listening to Lil Wayne rhyme nigga with nigga so people will like you, is sensible."My Jear-Bear (zensoulfood)
(via meditatingintrovert)Source that-emily-girl
"It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living, I want to know what you ache for. It doesn’t interest me how old you are, I want to know if you are willing to risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine. It doesn’t interest me where you live or how rich you are, I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and be sweet to the ones you love. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and truly like the company you keep in the empty moments of your life."Source emilyebarry
"I have wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but somehow I am still in love with life."Source larmoyante
Your chest feels tight.
Like your ribs are contracting and tightening their grasp around your lungs. It makes your heart beat faster out of fear, out of strain. You bend over and hug your ribcage- thinking for some reason that its going to help. It doesn’t make the pain go away, but it pushes the world out of sight, out of mind as you choke on your quickened breath.
You feel your throat run dry. It seems as though your throat is growing tighter too-something is trying to stretch it like its a roll of taffy, but to cope, your neck just constricts even more.
Your eyes start to burn with hot, salty tears collecting in the cup of your lower eyelid. Your brain is alive with panic and gives instructions in the form of simple thoughts.
You’ll be fine.
Because they will be fine.
Relax your muscles. There you go, just like that.
Breath again- you forgot to do it.
Forget that all the people you love are constantly hurting and dying inside.
Just pretend its not true.
Just pretend they aren’t crippled by depression, anxiety, fear, starvation, anger, sadness, abuse, inner torment, a deluded mind, self-hatred and self-harm.
Pretend that it doesn’t hurt you to see them with a weak smile- trying their best to show you they aren’t bleeding to death by the wounds inside their head.
Just pretend that not everything you love ends up being torn apart.
Just pretend you will be fine, and put a smile on for them- they like it when you’re happy because they can’t be happy.
Just pretend they are fine.
Just forget that they really aren’t fine.
That’s it, there you go.
You will fall in love with someone who annoys you, whose orgasm face looks and feels pathetic. Despite all of this, there’s something keeping you drawn to them, something that makes you want to protect them from the harsh world. What you fail to realize, however, is that you are the harsh world. You aren’t their noble protector — you are someone to be protected from but it takes a lot of dates, a lot of nights where you question whether or not you are actually a good person, for this to ever resonate with you. When it’s over and whatever love is left is put back in the fridge like a sad plate of leftovers, you will finally understand that you have the power to hurt someone. You can either hurt them or love them and it’s up to you to decide what kind of role you would like to take on in future relationships. What feels more comfortable — being the one who loves more or being the one who’s loved less?
You will fall in love with someone who’s cold and always seemingly pushing you away. When all is said and done, they will be forever known as the one person you couldn’t get to love you. Unfortunately, it will hurt and sting worse than the good ones, the ones that chopped up your meat for you and picked out an eyelash from your eye and were nice to your mother, because love often feels like a game we need to win. And when we lose, when we realize we couldn’t get what we ultimately desired from a person, it makes us feel like a failure and erases all the memories of those who loved us in the past. It’s a permanent smudge on your love resume.You will fall in love with someone for one night and one night only. They’ll come to you when you need them and be gone in the morning when you don’t. At first, this will make you feel empty and you’ll try to convince yourself that you could’ve loved this person for longer than a night, but you can’t. Some people are just meant to make cameo appearances, some are destined to be a pithy footnote. That’s okay though. Not every person we love has to stick around. Sometimes it’s better to leave while you’re still ahead. Sometimes it’s better to leave before you get unloved.
You will fall in love with the old couple down the street because to you they represent the impossible: a stable, long-lasting love. You’re trying to get someone to like you for more than ten minutes. A monogamous “never get sick of ya” love seems unfathomable. “What’s your secret, sir? Do you just say yes a lot?”You will fall in love with smells, the good and the bad kind. You will want to wear your lovers shirt because it makes you feel close to them and you’re okay with being that PSYCHO who is legitimately sniffing their shirt in public. You will fall in love with sweat, certain perfumes, the smell of the season in which you fell in love. This particular love smells like fall. It smells like Halloween and a roaring fire and leaves and fog and mist and candy and food and family and whiskey and sex and the lint that collects on sweaters. When it ends, if it ends, you will never experience another fall without thinking of him, her, it. The memories will stick to the ground like a mound of leaves and will only dissipate when the weather drops.
You will fall in love with your friends. Deep, passionate love. You will create a second family with them, a kind of tribe that makes you feel less vulnerable. Sometimes our families can’t love us all the time. Sometimes we’re born into families who don’t know how to love us properly. They do as much as they can but the rest is up to our friends. They can love you all the time, without judgement. At least the good ones can.This is where I’m supposed to tell you that you will fall in love with The One, a person who isn’t too cold or too nice. Their “O” face is perfectly fine and they’re not afraid to show how much they love you. This person is supposed to wait for us at the end of the twentysomething road as some kind of reward for all the heartache and loneliness. We deserve them. We’ve earned this kind of love.
So fine. You’re going to fall in love with The One. You’re going to fall in love with someone who will make sense beyond college or a job or a particular season. They’ll make sense forever and won’t ever want to leave you behind. I’m telling you this not because it’s true but because it NEEDS to be true. Everyone is entitled to this kind of love, so why not? Have it. It’s yours. Blow out the candles on your 30th birthday, holding their hand, and let out an exhale that’s been waiting for ten years. Do it. Now"
The last paragraph though
(via theawkwardverge)Source 1000drawings
"The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly."Source larmoyante
"I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know – unless it be to share our laughter. We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love."Source mymangotree
“You care about no one but yourself.”
“Pull your head out of your ass you stupid bitch.”
“You want to know what you’ll grow up to be? You’ll be nothing more than a dead hooker in a roadside ditch somewhere.”
“You fucking slut.”
“You fucking whore.”
“Stop being such a selfish bitch and show that you actually care about your family or I’ll kick your ass out.”
“You want a war? Fine. I’ll give you a fucking war. “
“I’ll just send you away to a military camp in New Mexico. You want that? Then stop acting like a bitch and start caring.”
“Sometimes I wonder if you will ever amount to anything- if I should even bother paying for your college.”
“I wonder if you would even care about me if I went and jumped off the blue bridge right now or if I had a heart attack tonight and died.”
“Am I right, or am I right?”
You know what? You’re right. You are freaking right, okay? I don’t care. I can’t care. I lost the ability to care a long time ago. Maybe I have depression. I lost the willpower and motivation. I lost the ability to function normally each day. I’ve lost myself. I’ve lost my future. I can’t concentrate, I’m not happy, I can’t do basic tasks, I can’t get motivated or keep from feeling helpless or hopeless- no matter how much I try. So, yeah, you’re right. I’m a lost cause. But do you know why? I mean, come on, I didn’t wake up one day and decide, “you know, I think I’ll just fuck everything up.” I didn’t decide for this to happen. I slowly slipped into it becaus the conditions for it to happen were present.
Do you know how often you verbally abuse us? Its at least once day on average. Do you even realize how deeply the things you say cut us? Do you realize the power your words and their tone, and their tempo, and their volume, and their placement have on us? Do you realize how controlling and utterly mean you are? Do you realize how hard it is to live and love, when we have a father who can’t do those things? A dad who can’t function normally either because he has severe depression and an anger problem? Honestly- do you even realize the damage you do? Oh, and lets not forget the physical scars and bruises you’ve left on your children. Remember when you beat your son who has aspbergers? And smashed both of your son’s heads together? And boxed their ears? And threw them into walls and hit them in the head? And how about when you hit your daughter? And boxd her ears? And grabbed her by the neck and threw her across the couch? And when you slammed her into a wall and slapped her across the face and came after her with a knife and luckily barely had enough control to only beat her in the back with its handle? Do you remember all of that? Do you?
I hope you realize why I don’t care anymore. How can I when you don’t show that you do? Or is my definition of caring wrong? Because last time I checked, “caring” about someone doesn’t mean yelling that they’re a worthless slut and coming after them with a steak knife.
"People are not bombs, bullets, they’re not a color of skin, a sexual orientation. They’re not male or female, they’re not a nationality, they’re not a flag. They’re human beings."Source wrists
-20 chicken nuggets
-2/3 a quart of ice cream
-1/3 a tube of cookie dough
-a jar of nutella
I. Regret. Nothing.