#dontreadit

U deserve to know me

Venus in Retrograde | sketch 2018 . . . #Inktober #inktober2018 #love #VenusImRetrograde #DontReadIt #Flowers #Sketch #IDontNormallyDoThis #Art #Artist #BehindTheScenes #Romance #DriedFlowers #Muse https://www.instagram.com/p/BodNhynhC0y/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=8iryp1axyxq8

New goal, daily journalling in big Chinese handwriting in this little Chinese notebook. #heavenhelpme #preschoolerpenmanship #dontreadit

The first time i saw this.. there were no thoughts.. i just want to have something like a stock room for my thoughts,, wherein i don't need to make every words beautiful. just wanna leave it as simple as it is.

Creating a Blog, everybody does it. Since there have been quite some crazy things happening in my live the past two years, I decided it might finally be a good idea to create a platform where I can share what I do in a little more detail. 

She sat there on the vacant roof top. She hung her legs off of the ledge, and watched all the very tiny, subtle figures passing beneath. If they knew that her 140 pound body would soon be hurdling towards them at incredible speeds, she couldn't help but wonder if they would stop and look. And watch. Jaws drooped, hands thrown dramatically over their heads. Would it matter to them that she was a person? A human being? An individual pushed so far over her physical and mental limit that she felt so hopeless she had to take her own life? Or would it only matter to them to see something dramatic and gory? Something they could talk about for years to come. Would she become the next disturbing story on the news? Or would her tale just fade away, the same way that her body would once it was in the ground? She took a few deep breaths, then took a final drag from her cigarette before tossing the butt over the edge, watching its each and every movement on the way to the concrete horizon below. Taking a scoot back off the ledge she stood and composed herself. She had to be careful not to take the plummet before she was ready. After all, what would be the point in falling and going without taking time to enjoy the drop? Wind blew hard and cold through her smooth, long, black hair, whipping it everywhere. She could feel the fresh scars lining the length of her forearms. Oh well she thought. If anyone really cared they would be here right now, trying to save her from herself. She had fallen for man who only saw her as a prize. A slave. A trophy to be displayed for everyone to see, yet never allowed to be truly seen by anyone. All he beatings. All the screaming. All the times she was forced to sit in the room, crying and searching for comfort while he got drunk and brought home any and every woman who was willing and attractive. Sometimes not even the latter. Why did he want her? Why did he tell her she was the most beautiful woman he had ever found when all he did was betray those very words? How could she stay? Was it because he sheltered her? Was it because he fed her? Held her? Told her sweet things? Why was the simplicity of those tiny little things he did enough to outweigh all the horrible? Why did she truly believe he was a great person and needed her when clearly he was a broken man who could never change? Why did she let him ruin her? And why did she not take her lovers hand and run away? When the man who was always there for her came for her, she was only strong enough to push him away, fearing the possible death of her husband and the punishment he would surely give her if she tried to leave him. All hope was lost. After another long night of being beaten, and trying to stand up for herself, talking back with the words she had rehearsed so many times, then a long, even more dark assault, one which could almost never be repaired or forgiven, she wanted to die. She didn't want to fight anymore, she just wanted to die. She stepped slowly up on to the ledge, taking a few deep, collective breaths. Closing her eyes she pictured her secret lovers warm sweet face, just one last time. Forceful winds hit her face and torso as she toppled over he edge. Then. Pain. The worst pain she had ever felt physically as every rib in her body cracked or broke from the impact. She screamed out, looking up to see the very warm, strong force that had snagged her han. Following the trail of dark tan skin and small ruffled arm hairs upward, she saw him. And realized finally that she truly was never alone. He was there. He would always be there.