#tieu

Miss Tieu Vy responded to the overly sexy dress

After the end of her term, Miss Vietnam 2018 Tran Tieu Vy often appears with a sexy image to the point of daring. She said she was sexy, but still within the framework. (more…)

This is my cat, Tieu. 

He broke his tail before I met him and it’s set into a Pikachu zig zag shape.  So it’s super stubby and super crooked. Also, he’s got a ton of extra toes. His sister has 6 toes on each paw but he’s got, like, 7 or 8.

jesus

“I give up on love”.

I hate when I hear people my age say 

“Love was a thing back then, that shit doesn't exist anymore.”

I hate when people throw around the word

but don't put in the work 

that makes those three words feel whole.

I hate those people that think because they’re damaged,

they get to damage those around them.

I hate that I was born with such an incredible amount

and have no one to pour that love into.

I hate that I have yet to find a counterpart,

another human that was worthy of the love,

dedication,

commitment,

and effort

that I have within my body, my mind, my soul, 

I, with all the rage inside my flesh, 

the anger that throbs within my bones, 

that pain that I have kept hostage within the cavity of my heart, 

hate that I have done a poor job, 

a sad job, 

a so-disappointing-my-mother-is-ashamed job, 

of choosing the wrong people to give my love to. 

I despise myself for my actions, my clouded judgement, 

my impaired vision and my habit for dumping my gold on the ground and being 

grateful that some fool came by, saw something shiny and went 

“Ooooh, this looks fun”

and pocketed what should have been coveted. 

But through all my disappointment,

my constant discontent

and bad choices of commitment,

I am so deep in my conviction

that love exists,

and is alive and well and sitting on a beach 

with not a care in the world,

waiting for me to realize what I’ve done.

Love is waiting for me to let go, 

and love myself, 

I cannot tell you how much emotion has been drained from this body,

how much effort, will, how much strength has been flung from my core into this world of you and I. 

Yet, I fight every day,

you, me, us, you, you, you.

And you don't get how tired I’ve become.

me, me, me, so tired am I that I keep repeating these pronouns that I somehow assume you to assume that I’m blithering about. 

Yet here I am, 

gasping for air, flailing my arms amongst these waves that are dragging me down, whispering how sweet of me it would be to let go and let shadows of the bottom convince me to stay. 

I am going crazy. 

You are selfish. 

Do you see my point, here?

Do you see how tired and beaten I am from your inconsistencies regarding the human emotions that affect me, the parts that belong to me, some of which are derived from you?

Oh god, I am tired. 

Oh my fucking god, how I am tired.

Beaten. 

Tired.