china

lovequotesrus:

Photo Courtesy: poorgirlswag

lovequotesrus:

Photo Courtesy: poorgirlswag

26 September 2011 reblog: lovequotesrus


Bluey xx

Bluey xx

19 September 2011 love kisses warmth happy


anditslove:

I’m tired of feeling this way. I’m tired of sleepless nights. I’m tired of flashbacks. I’m tired, so fucking tired. When will it get better? When??

16 September 2011 reblog: anditslove


Love this idea!

Love this idea!

(via demisaurus)

21 July 2011 reblog: c0nfiding-deactivated20111104-d


Others imply that they know what it is like to be depressed because they have gone through a divorce, lost a job, or broken up with someone. But these experiences carry with them feelings. Depression, instead, is flat, hollow, and unendurable. It is also tiresome. People cannot abide being around you when you are depressed. They might think that they ought to, and they might even try, but you know and they know that you are tedious beyond belief: you are irritable and paranoid and humorless and lifeless and critical and demanding and no reassurance is ever enough. You’re frightened, and you’re frightening, and you’re “not at all like yourself but will be soon,” but you know you won’t.

— Kay Redfield Jamison, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness (via phantomwise) (via loveyourchaos, psychotherapy) (via thingssheloves)

10 May 2011 reblog: psychotherapy


imgfavepopular:

★ discovered on imgfave.com (social image bookmarking)

imgfavepopular:

discovered on imgfave.com (social image bookmarking)

(via imgfave)

9 May 2011 reblog: imgfavepopular


8 December 2010 reblog: shotsandscribbles


i wish life worked like musicals

sativas:

that whenever you needed to say something important there was a song that just came to you and you’d burst out in it and everyone around you suddenly became your backup singers/dancers and knew all the right words and moves and no one looked around as if the entire situation was bizarre because it’d just be an everyday occasion

(Source: kiyla, via secretlyscreaming)

1 December 2010 reblog: kiyla


Let’s talk about rape for a moment. Rape is not what George Lucas did to your childhood. Rape is not what happens when a sports team beats another sports team by a wide margin. Rape is not what happens when your electric bill is higher this month than it was last month. Rape is when a person violates another person in the most despicable, degrading way imaginable and among the myriad of terrible things humans can do to one another, rape is among the worst. I think the casual misappropriation of the concept of rape extending all the way to its widespread comical usage is disgusting even by Internet standards. Off my chest.

— Jeffrey Rowland - Overcompensating (via loveyourchaos)

(Source: kinelfire, via loveyourchaos)

28 November 2010 reblog: kinelfire


23 November 2010


gatekeeper:

 I’m feeling so much of this lately. (Kitty Sanchez)

gatekeeper:

I’m feeling so much of this lately. (Kitty Sanchez)

(via conflictingheart)

22 November 2010 reblog: conflictingheart


… there are only some many times you can utter “It does not hurt” before it begins to hurt even more than the hurt.

Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer (via melancholynotes)

(Source: growing-orbits)

14 November 2010 reblog: growing-orbits


I could write novels about pain. Not the kind of pain you get when you break your arm, but the kind that makes your broken heart go into your throat, so that it takes all of your energy and concentration to breathe. The kind of pain that makes you want to scream & sob at the same time. The kind of pain that makes you want to hurt everyone around you because you’re suffering & they’re not, because they can breathe without feeling guilty & hold a normal conversation without breaking down into fits of tears or rage. A pain that bites it’s tongue and nods acceptably when asked if okay.

— (via poeticheartache)

13 November 2010 reblog: poeticheartache


Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.

— (via poeticheartache)

13 November 2010 reblog: poeticheartache


6 November 2010 reblog: drowsybears