'They'll keep out of my way,' she insisted. 'It takes two to make an accident.'
F. Scott Fitzgerald, “the Great Gatsby” (via backshelfpoet)

magentamayhem:

i am perfectly fine with having other people sit on my lap but i can’t sit on other people’s laps because i’m always paranoid that i’d crush them and they’d diE

(via impulsivenightmares)


thebugbears:

Sorry it’s a bit long.

I’ve had a rough time this week and was worrying that I was going to get bad again. But Kaylie reminded me of all the things that are different in my life now.  I process things a lot better through writing/art, so yesterday I decided to do a thing to help myself remember.

(via sifirst-aid)




WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN

it means that some people think they are that worthless that they will settle for abusive love. they attract the people that treat them how they think they deserve to be treated. others may have their sense of self-worth so won’t settle for anything below what they deserve. how you view yourself is how you’re going to be treated is what it’s saying. so, if you think you deserve more for yourself, that’s what you’re going to get, but if you don’t think you’re a good person, you will settle for much less than you really do deserve. don’t depreciate yourself, because one day you’re going to find someone who will give you everything you deserve and more.


WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN

it means that some people think they are that worthless that they will settle for abusive love. they attract the people that treat them how they think they deserve to be treated. others may have their sense of self-worth so won’t settle for anything below what they deserve. how you view yourself is how you’re going to be treated is what it’s saying. so, if you think you deserve more for yourself, that’s what you’re going to get, but if you don’t think you’re a good person, you will settle for much less than you really do deserve. don’t depreciate yourself, because one day you’re going to find someone who will give you everything you deserve and more.

(via mixed--thoughts)


merrikat-manor:

So apparently Six Feet Under The Stars is the sequel to/ and about the same girl that’s in Coffee Shop Soundtrack,

and I’d just like to point out:

Daily Grind Coffee Shop
1720 Thames Street
Baltimore, MD

DONE. I AM SO FUCKING DONE.

 

(via fuckyeahitsalltimelow)


death-of-all:

This is something I’ve been thinking about for some time based on my experiences with anxiety. These are solely my own thoughts on my experiences.

I think that this is slightly more specific to social anxiety, but I think it still fits the blanket term. 

Drawn for my sister


I swear to every heaven ever imagined,
if I hear one more dead-eyed hipster
tell me that art is dead, I will personally summon Shakespeare
from the grave so he can tell them every reason
why he wishes he were born in a time where
he could have a damn Gmail account.
The day after I taught my mother
how to send pictures over Iphone she texted
me a blurry image of our cocker spaniel ten times in a row.
Don’t you dare try to tell me that that is not beautiful.
But whatever, go ahead and choose to stay in
your backwards-hoping-all-inclusive club
while the rest of us fall in love over Skype.
Send angry letters to state representatives,
as we record the years first sunrise so
we can remember what beginning feels like when
we are inches away from the trigger.
Lock yourself away in your Antoinette castle
while eat cake and tweet to the whole universe that we did.
Hashtag you’re a pretentious ass hole.
Van Gogh would have taken 20 selflies a day.
Sylvia Plath would have texted her lovers
nothing but heart eyed emojis when she ran out of words.
Andy Warhol would have had the worlds weirdest Vine account,
and we all would have checked it every morning while we
Snap Chat our coffee orders to the people
we wish were pressed against our lips instead of lattes.
This life is spilling over with 85 year olds
rewatching JFK’s assassination and
7 year olds teaching themselves guitar over Youtube videos.
Never again do I have to be afraid of forgetting
what my fathers voice sounds like.
No longer must we sneak into our families phonebook
to look up an eating disorder hotline for our best friend.
No more must I wonder what people in Australia sound like
or how grasshoppers procreate.
I will gleefully continue to take pictures of tulips
in public parks on my cellphone
and you will continue to scoff and that is okay.
But I hope, I pray, that one day you will realize how blessed
you are to be alive in a moment where you can google search
how to say I love you in 164 different languages.

childofperdition:

guess what?

  • you’re not obligated to forgive your abuser/s
  • if it’s been two weeks, a month, a year, or even a decade since your abuse happened, you still have a right to be angry about what happened
  • you don’t have to “get over it”
  • you don’t have to forgive your abuser/s and you DEFINITELY don’t have to trust them
  • it’s okay to hurt
  • it’s okay to want them to hurt. because they should.

(via brasandbodyimage)


You can recognize survivors of abuse by their courage. When silence is so very inviting, they step forward and share their truth so others know they aren’t alone.
Jeanne McElvaney, Healing Insights: Effects Of Abuse For Adults Abused as Children  (via speakoutbeheard)

TW: Rape
Sometimes we have triggers that we feel are too strange or obscure or embarrassing to talk about. Maybe an act of abuse occurred in the kitchen, with the toaster on, so now you’re afraid of toasters and the smell of rye bread. Maybe you were hurt on a Ferris wheel and now, whenever you see it portrayed as a romantic thing, you have to leave the room to get yourself together. Maybe you avoid alcohol other mind-altering drugs because the idea of losing control over yourself is too scary, and now when your friends ask you to try things, you don’t know what to say, or how to say it. You just keep repeating, “No, sorry. Maybe one day…”

Maybe a campy, cheesy europop song that everyone loves and insists on bringing up at parties was playing in the background on the night someone hurt you. Maybe your abuser always wore certain suits and ties, or gave you a specific candy bar to buy your silence. Maybe you were watching Barney and now you hate dinosaurs even though everyone is supposed to love them. You just can’t explain it to your friends and loved ones. It’s too complicated, too weird and awkward to say it plainly: I was raped, or, I was fucked as a kid.