Aug 11
It Sucks to Suck at everything, I wish I was atleast perfect at one thing but I love doing everything i do.
its cool
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It Sucks to Suck at everything, I wish I was atleast perfect at one thing but I love doing everything i do.
its cool
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I might have to rewrite my first fic at some point. That thing looks like an outline or something. It's not going to be any time soon; I want to work on something else, but you can kinda tell it was rushed (busy with life and at that + a deadline).
I am glad it at least ripped the Band-Aid of shame off.
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I need to watch perfectionist movies again to release the perfectionist in me that's been hiding, before I truly become a failure!
Can anyone recommend a movie?
(I cannot text people. My brain goes on a tangent on their every word. I will write about a useless turn of phrase or words you chose and overthink every meaning of it. This laidback conversation will turn into a monologue monograph of the topic as I cannot forget one detail as it would mean something deeper and I cannot not consider every possibility as there is a chance that someone will contradict me and I cannot for the love of God be wrong because that would mean I’m a fucking failure and truly unlovable.)
*pov you’re in my brain*
my life goal is to become successful enough to have a wikipedia page
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
pretty girls cry over grade eights
TW:SA, rape, trauma, and perfectionism. Let me know if I missed anything else!
She always tried to be gentle. It never felt gentle to me.
"I can't stop — this has to be done by next week." My mother hears the cries "Sweetie — you have an entire week to do this. You can stop.". The memories all come flooding back "Please. You can stop. I won't tell anyone. Please stop!" Your cries for help go unnoticed, and unanswered. No one was around. Or did they not care?
My mother noticed me staring at a wall. Little did she know I was staring straight at my fears. "Did you hear me?" She said in a stern but gentle voice.
"Don't bite. Be gentle."
I haven't told her yet. How would she react? Her own blood — my own blood.
Now my blood felt dirtier than ever. A single touch would bring me all back to where it started.
"I said it's only a test. You don't always have to be perfect."
But I do.
I'm a failure.
I failed myself.
I failed my family.
I failed my body.
My mother looked at me and when I looked back I saw what I never wanted to see again
That same man that made me feel damned.