“do you think i care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference” is more insane than any love confession ever
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@detectivefrost
“do you think i care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference” is more insane than any love confession ever

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god
okay so i just got my dream job??? a week after applying to it?? and now i’m thinking….maybe this is the good luck post
…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
i need all the help i can get for finals
Hey so
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.Â
So you know.Â
This might be the real one, y’all.
I could use some luck
Eh–what have I got to lose?
instead I have to let everything descend upon me, the way the earth accepts a thunderstorm— June 27, 1913 Letters to Felice by Franz Kafka First published : 1973
I want to kiss you…
but not in a oh-imhorny-kinda way
instead, the kind…that’s,
> The cutesie kind, the butterfly kind, the moon and the stars kind, the purple flowers kind.
> The night sky full of millions of stars kind. The space filled with billions of galaxies kind.
> The rhythmic sound of bangles and payal kind.
> The gajra woven through my hair kind.
> The kajal in my eyes and the bindi on my forehead kind.
> The safety and love your arms radiate when you encompass me kind.
> The perfect fit of your hand entwined with mine kind.
> The sound of your laughter kind. The warm brown of your eyes kind.
> The kind that conveys all I feel and more..
The kind that’s OUR kind
i miss kissing you.

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this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass this too shall pass
“Sometimes, everything in you weeps… except your eyes.”
You hate yourself so loudly. You hate yourself at the top of your lungs. Your loathing for yourself permeates your speech. "Sorry I'm just rambling." "Don't worry about it." "Just ignore me." "Sorry if I'm annoying you." "Sorry I don't make sense." "Sorry about that."
Sorry, sorry, sorry. You act as if you have to beat everyone else to the punch. As if the punching bag is you. If you hate yourself first, if you hate yourself loudest, then nobody will hurt you. You clapped your hands over your ears and shut your eyes and balled yourself up so that you'd never have to experience people's loathing for you. And it meant you never heard their love. You drowned it out. You screamed your hatred over it. And you never got to hear it.
—Anonymous

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February, 1932 The diary of AnaĂŻs Nin [Volume One: 1931-1934]
so soft it hurts
Nikita Gill, from Your Heart is the Sea: Poems; "The Difference Between Alone and Lonely,"
30 January, 1928 The Letters of Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf (1924-1941)

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https://twitter.com/isabelunraveled
"You can't make them - whoever your particular them is - do anything, really," said Ekaterin slowly. "Adulthood isn't an award they'll give you for being a good child. ... You have to just...take it. Give it to yourself, I suppose. Say, I'm sorry you feel like that, and walk away. But that's hard."
- Lois McMaster Bujold, A Civil Campaign
"Yeh aasu jo tum sabse chhupa rahi ho, janti ho kyu chhupa rahi ho?" "Kyuki yeh aasu bhi tumhaare khilaaf gavaahi de rahe hai."