I'm actually feeling really pensive and moody but I'll spare you the angst for now
The fact that I made my bed today makes me feel really in control of my life
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@moonlightgrace
I'm actually feeling really pensive and moody but I'll spare you the angst for now
The fact that I made my bed today makes me feel really in control of my life

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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let me tell you something: no one is going to look at you, broken and shattered and think - damn, you are beautiful. no one is going to come pick up your broken pieces off the floor and assemble them into a beautiful whole. hell, you won’t even look at yourself and think - I made broken look beautiful. you know why? because all those writers lied to you. yes, all those with their poems of scraped knuckles and blood dripping down chins, pomegranate songs and loves that ripped through you like hurricanes. liars. so you and i, we are going to make a plan. you are not going to romanticize days when your brain tells you to smash that mirror, you are not going to romanticize the lover who doesn’t understand you but still writes about you. here is what you are going to romanticize instead: you are going to romanticize the first day of spring, its gentle hands all over your body, lifting you up until you are as light as a feather. you are going to romanticize the tea and honey kind of love, no hurricanes, but sunshine that builds you up from within, that helps you make it through the worst days. you are going to romanticize gentle hands of a friend in yours, telling you that it is going to be okay. because it is. and don’t trust poets, we’re no good, we love pretending that our jagged edges tantamount to a beautiful disaster, but in reality - there ain’t nothing beautiful about shaky hands holding a cigarette and empty eyes staring at the cracks in the walls. you know what is beautiful, instead? the days when you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile, scars and all. music that makes your soul flow like a river, books that offer comfort, families flocking together like overgrown birds to keep you safe and warm, friends that give you strength when you can find none, lovers who make you laugh through tears. baby, from now on you are going to romanticize healing; honey dripping down your fingertips, August nights that stick to your skin, the day you find your purpose, long car rides and singing so loud that no one can shut you up now. bad news: no one is coming to save you. good news: you can save yourself.
Lana Rafaela (via internal-acceptance-movement)
This is the supportive Clark, you will be blessed with smooth half circles and frankensteiners, but only if you add “Thanks, Clarku”
Thanks, Clarku
My room is a bad place to dance.
No fan. It’s hot.
Floor shakes. Randy Orton falls off the shelf.
Carpeted Floor. Can’t do turns.
No space. Accidentally punch lamps.
As a side note, this theme isn’t great for text posts.
Tiring as fuck day, but got a tiny amount of stuff done. Did a lot of planning and goals and journaling and what not, but managed to get a few real action steps out of the way too.
Now I am tired and it’s early.

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lately, i’ve been trying not to fall in love with you.
i’ve been trying not to imagine what your morning breath smells like, and the jokes we would share every night right before we drift off to sleep. I’ve been trying to tell myself that love is nothing but endings, and we would be nothing but destruction. i’ve been trying not to imagine your voice after three cigarettes when you whisper that you love me. i’ve been trying to imagine what goodbye sounds like through your clenched jaw. i’ve been trying to forget that you cleared the mess from my head and I keep trying to shove chaos back into my membrane so i go back to the person I was before you.
lately, i’ve been failing at everything.
— Amanda Helm - I’ve been trying
2 years ago (7 December, 2013)
And I wonder why I can’t get over things
On the verge of the first feeling of progress in what feels like centuries. In the interest of not being needlessly cryptic, I’m in the process of getting rid of years old trash that I’ve let poison my daily life by existing here in my room.
Three-ish years ago, I suffered an unfortunate break up that I didn’t handle well and I basically trashed my room and broke a lot of things that I owned and there are still a lot of scars from that day still staring me in the face everyday because I’ve actually never cleaned up and gotten rid of several of those things.
Actually getting rid of this stuff has felt so freeing. It’s actually way more of a profound feeling than I realized it would be. It’s so different looking across my room and actually not seeing the bed I broke and the chairs I broke and the shelves I broke instead of forcing my eyes to dodge around them and pretend they weren’t still reminding me of that pain I felt that day.
I’ve noticed lately as I struggled to spatula myself from my today that in all my vague ambitions to “be better” and “don’t be sad and useless” and stuff, I’ve started trying to make progress without having a good idea of where exactly I want to end up.
I don’t have real goals. I don’t have a vision of what I want my life to look like in a few years or next year or next week. Besides that I want to be happy or something, I have no idea what I want to be doing. Where I want to be. Who I want to be. Who I want to be with.
I used to blame it on having such a negative outlook that I didn’t really see myself living that long. And that hasn’t always been true, for all of my life, but it’s been more true lately. Not entirely because suicidal thoughts or anything like that either. It’s just been really tough to look forward.
So I suppose that wouldn’t be an awful place to start if I can manage it.
I found an old note about life goals I had from several years ago when I was going through my old computer files wedged awkwardly between empty death threats I made to myself. Maybe it was because future goals seemed so out of place between suicidal thoughts that I tried to forget it was there.
Or maybe just because of how it just doesn’t fit into my narrative of depression and self-loathing that I’ve committed myself to beating off to every night.
Either way, I think I’m in a mood to go see what I wrote back then about the future, if only to laugh pathetically about how little it matches up with my current reality.
Time to wish for my own happiness this time

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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It’s almost funny how difficult it’s been lately to just keep it together. Lately lately lately. Lately’s been over 3 years now
Got my old computer to turn on
Lots of old notes in here about being sad about girls and wanting to die. ha ha
For once, I just want someone to want me.
(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHl1oKW1MHs)
Not often that I find something that feels like it was literally written for me and even feels like it was written by me. Like she is speaking my thoughts. It’s unnerving and calming at the same time.
You can be lonely even when you are loved by many people, since you are still not anybody’s one and only.
Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl (via goodreadss)

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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
You can be lonely even when you are loved by many people, since you are still not anybody’s one and only.
Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl (via goodreadss)
You can be lonely even when you are loved by many people, since you are still not anybody’s one and only.
Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl (via goodreadss)