<
8,208 notes + reblog
posted 1 day ago
"

1. Write apologies to your veins
for threatening them so often.

2. You have handprints
engraved in your stomach.

3. Your legs will never
stop shaking.

4. Your head will never
be silent.

"
Michelle K., From: Me, To: Me (via michellekpoems)

(via twistedtorture)

idioticteen:

harrystyls:

what is white culture

clapping after an airplane lands

(via styloser)

3,236 notes + reblog
posted 4 days ago
drunknight:

INSTAGRAM
"I think one thing you can do to help your friends who are depressed is to reach out to them not in the spirit of helping, but in the spirit of liking them and wanting their company. “I’m here to help if you ever need me” is good to know, but hard to act on, especially when you’re in a dark place. Specific, ongoing, pleasure-based invitations are much easier to absorb. “I’m here. Let’s go to the movies. Or stay in and order takeout and watch some dumb TV.” “I’m having a party, it would be really great if you could come for a little while.” Ask them for help with things you know they are good at and like doing, so there is reciprocity and a way for them to contribute. “Will you come over Sunday and help me clear my closet of unfashionable and unflattering items? I trust your eye.” “Will you read this story I wrote and help me fix the dialogue?” “Want to make dinner together? You chop, I’ll assemble.” “I am going glasses shopping and I need another set of eyes.” Remind yourself why you like this person, and in the process, remind them that they are likable and worth your time and interest.

Talk to the parts of the person that aren’t being eaten by the depression. Make it as easy as possible to make and keep plans, if you have the emotional resources to be the initiator and to meet your friends a little more than halfway. If the person turns down a bunch of invitations in a row because (presumably) they don’t have the energy to be social, respect their autonomy by giving it a month or two and then try again. Keep the invitations simple; “Any chance we could have breakfast Saturday?” > “ARE YOU AVOIDING ME BECAUSE YOU’RE DEPRESSED OR BECAUSE YOU HATE ME I AM ONLY TRYING TO HELP YOU.” “I miss you and I want to see you” > “I’m worried about you.” A depressed person is going to have a shame spiral about how their shame is making them avoid you and how that’s giving them more shame, which is making them avoid you no matter what you do. No need for you to call attention to it. Just keep asking. “I want to see you” “Let’s do this thing.” “If you are feeling low, I understand, and I don’t want to impose on you, but I miss your face. Please come have coffee with me.” “Apology accepted. ApologIES accepted. So. Gelato and Outlander?”"

#613: How do I reach out to my friends who have depression? | Captain Awkward

P.S. A lot of people with depression and other mental illnesses have trouble making decisions or choosing from a bunch of different options. “Wanna get dinner at that pizza place on Tuesday night?” is a LOT easier to answer than “So wanna hang out sometime? What do you want to do?”

(via startrekrenegades)

(via styloser)

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."
Neil GaimanThe Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones (via feellng)

(via pyrrhic-kaiaka)

"just this. just this, this room where we are. pay attention to that. pay attention to who’s there. pay attention to what isn’t known there. pay attention to what is known there. pay attention to what everyone is thinking or feeling; what you’re doing there. pay attention. pay attention."
w.s. merwin on nirvana and the buddha’s revelation (via whenthewhiterabbitpeaks)

(via partitionplease)

17 notes + reblog
posted 1 week ago
bloodrivalry:

I’m addicted to Disneyland’s churros and I think that’s the only reason why I keep going back.
71,250 notes + reblog
posted 1 week ago
sex-thrill:

 
2,013 notes + reblog
posted 1 week ago
drunknight:

INSTAGRAM
"I know I shake when you don’t call and I feel like I can’t breathe when you forget to tell me you love me. I know that sometimes the words that come spilling out of my mouth at 3 AM make me sound crazy. I know that I love you a little too much. I know everything really hurts right now. I hope you know that I will always be here to keep the blood inside your veins. I hope you know that I will always be here to kiss you goodnight even if I fall asleep crying afterwards. I hope you know that you are the only reason I’ve still got stars hidden under my skin. I hope you know that you are the only thing that keeps the flowers in my lungs from dying. I know we’re fucked up. I know that sometimes I make you feel like you’re choking. I hope you know that I’m sorry. I hope you know that I see you in everything. I hope you know that it’s okay. I hope you know that you’re all I want. I hope you know that I think you’re wonderful. I hope you know that I think you’re every sunset and every thunderstorm and every cup of tea in the universe. I hope you know that you are my entire galaxy. I hope you know that I love you."
everything I know, everything I hope that you know (via extrasad)

(via twistedtorture)

932 notes + reblog
posted 1 week ago
698 notes + reblog
posted 1 week ago
"You’re in a party, and the music is blasting and you feel like your veins are pumping together along with the beat. In one corner, the guy who was hosting the party was holding a mike and was in charge of the body shots. This is sickly, you think as everybody came here for a purpose, to forget what they needs to be forgotten. The girl who you know has a boyfriend has somebody sucking her neck by the hall. You could smell cocaine in the bathroom. Let the aura of rebellion hit you in the form of bullets and the revolver was her lips. You drink the beer handed to you by your friend and all you want to do is throw it outside with the rose bushes. Is this maturity, you ask? But then you realize everybody in this roof has gotten hurt, and some are clutching their mobile phones like a proud gold medal, smoked and baked, taking in to realisation on how it was easy for them to call their exes. Everybody is missing someone, and each person is drinking to forget about the same person. Is this how the youth handles their problems, you ask? Yes. So if you’re reading this now, tell her you fucking love her. Tell her you love her before you become the definition of disintegration when you see her smiling with another boy. Get out of that jungle of people lying to themselves, and drive to her house. Feel the adrenaline, imagine how beautiful she looks during this hour, with her face bare and oversized shirts to sleep on. Step on the gas. Knock on her door. Kiss her. Make her yours."
a.s., heart cramps  (via mossyribs)

(via bloodrivalry)

238,157 notes + reblog
posted 1 week ago