Not today Justin
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Discoholic 🪩
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@grey-eyes
Some days I find myself longing for home and yet I don't know where home is.
My parents' place, filled with pictures of a girl I find hard to recognize?
The arms of a stranger I met on Tinder?
The room I payed rent for with my first salary?
Or a little town in the North where I lived for 5 months that I can't seem to forget?
And why am I craving connections when all I wanted was Freedom?
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You keep hurting me in my dreams and I wake up every morning knowing why you're not good for me
It's the universe keep telling me I have to let you go.
I have to let the idea of you go
But I can't
I just can't
The sound of heavy rain while sitting in a parked car.
I’m tired of being treated like shit and bitched at the moment I get home. I’m tired of having to leave the room so I don’t embarrass myself in front of my own family because I’m crying due to the things they say and the way they talk about me.
No one should be made to feel like absolute shit in their own house by their own family everyday.
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Why are so many stories by straight white men just:
He woke up at 3pm. He had a hangover and an erection. He thought about the hot woman he'd met at the bar. She had ruby lips and a bosom that heaved like a drunk sailor. He smoked 83 cigarettes and thought about his father.
He went to the kitchen and made some toast, because he was a man and didn't own an oven. It was 5pm by the time he left the house to buy 16 bottles of whisky and some cigarettes. The world was as dark as his soul. No one had ever known pain like his. Not since she'd left him.
He went back to his bedsit and drank 4 bottles of whisky and thought about legs as long as time itself and also had some more original thoughts about how love and death are the same thing, really. He went to bed at 4am and smoked 12 cigarettes in his sleep. The end.
It's not that I want to die. If anything. I want to live. I'm just really tired of being 'me', someone who can't achieve anything of worth, a privileged individual who could have done so much more with what I had but instead fell into a spiral of self-loathing and Ineptitude. I say I want to die so much that it may just as well be my mantra, but I know for a fact that it's just shorthand for wanting to be special, to be needed, to be important, to be wanted. Falling short of these expectations of mine as well as the expectations of others, and feeling unimportant and alone at my age may as well be a corporal sin punishable by death. I probably don't deserve this life. So I go on saying I want to die.
E smetterai di abbassare lo sguardo, smetterai di vergognarti, smetterai di ridere quando ti senti imbarazzata. Smetterai di cercare risposte in altri, perché sono solo e soltanto in te. Tu vali molto di più di quanto ti hanno lasciato credere fino ad ora.
“Qualcuno la salvò. Ma chi ha iniziato a morire non smette mai di farlo.”
— Alessandro Baricco (via ipusheveryoneaway)
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Guido: Eminenza, io non sono felice.
Cardinale: Perché dovrebbe essere felice? Il suo compito non è questo. Chi le ha detto che si viene al mondo per essere felici?
- 8 1/2
La pioggia, il vento, il freddo... Tutto in perfetta sintonia con quello che c'è dentro.
“Some nights I wish I could go back in life. Not to change shit, just to feel a couple things twice.”
— 6pm in New York- Drake (via bl-ossomed)
It ceased to hurt me, though so slow
I could not see the trouble go -
But only knew by looking back -
That something - had obscured the Track -
Nor when it altered, I could say,
For I had worn it, every day,
As constant as the Childish frock -
I hung upon the Peg, at night.
But not the Grief - that nestled Close
As Needles - ladies softly press
To Cushions Cheeks -
To keep their place -
Nor what consoled it, I could trace -
Except, whereas 'twas Wilderness -
It's better - almost Peace -
Emily Dickinson
- Quindi non hai mai avuto una figura maschile di riferimento?
- No, è per questo che ho scelto di essere gay. Scherzo, non funziona così.
- Lo so, sei gay per via dei Teletubbies.
- E anche perché a scuola non pregavamo.
Dear White People
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“ Questi paesaggi sono divenuti un’ossessione, è al di là delle mie forze e tuttavia voglio arrivare a rendere ciò che sento così vivamente. Ne sono distrutto: ricomincio e spero che da tanto sforzo esca qualcosa ”
E persino Dio non potrà aiutarmi, anch'egli consapevole che dalla vita non c'è più nulla che io possa ottenere, che essa non ha altro da offrirmi, che probabilmente non aveva nulla fin dall'inizio. E forse mi perdonerà, forse farà un'eccezione... Un suicida in paradiso: "Scusate santi, è stato un errore di stampa, un difetto di fabbrica, ora ha diritto al rimborso". Forse.
