A - Available? kinda available-ish I guess?
B - Birthday? turning 17 on september 17
C - Crushing on? it's kind of a like/hate/teasing thing, not posting the name though
D - Drink you last had? water
E - Easiest person to talk to? my best friend
F - Favourite song? right now? on our way by the royal concept
G - Grade i hated? 9nth and 11th grade def
H - Hometown? san juan puerto rico
I - Icecream flavour? cake batter ._.
J - Jellybean flavour? marshmallow
K - Killed someone? in my mind yes, but in real life i've killed bugs-that's as far as I go
L- Longest friendship? my best guy friend and I have been close since first grade, so like, 12 years
M - Milkshake flavour? vanilla milkshake
N - Number of siblings? 1 younger brother
P - Person who called me last? a guy I met at a party asking when can we met so that he can lend me a book, he's adorable.
Q - Question your always asked? why are you always smiling and laughing? are you drunk? what are you, 14?
R - Reason to smile? the sun is out, the birds are chirping, you are alive, you have friends, people who care about you, you are loved
S - Song i last sung? no scrubs by bastille
T - Time you woke up? 9:
U - Umbrella colour? pink
V - Very best friend? shit, that's hard
W - Which celebrity i’d marry? tom sturridge my bby
X - X rays i had? I had an x ray done on my pinky once, and I've han multiple head ct scans and full body mri if those count
Y - Your last time you cried? yesterday
Unfollow the depression blogs, the suicide blogs, the pro-eating disorder blogs. The blogs with bones and wounds, the blogs with black and white. You don’t need the crash diets, the thinspo, any voice telling you you’re not good enough. Not even the one inside your head. Let go.
The beautiful things in life don’t translate to shades of black and white. Stop writing and rewriting your suicide note. Everything you plan to say to people after your death could also be said while you’re still alive. Call people up for lunch. Say it face to face. Say sorry. Say thank you. Say I love you. And live to hear it said back to you.
The word “suicide” or “depression” in your URL does not tell me who you are. Your URL does not tell me what you love to do. You are more than the sadness. You are more than the bones that you’ve wanted so badly to show. You are more than your body measurements. You are more than your scars or your wounds. You are more than your tear stained pillow cases. Your sadness should not be your identity.
Stop searching up “cutting”, “suicide”, and “depression” when you’re feeling down. Search up things that will make you feel better not worse. Search up pictures of animals, good poetry, beautiful places you can escape to someday, art, music, plants, quotes.
When the world teaches you that it’s better to be apathetic and that you should hate, tell them that you’ve hated the world and yourself for far too long now.
Let go. Reach out. Ask for help. Because it’s time to try something different now.
if you’re going to leave, that’s fine.
and I know you promised you wouldn’t
seven months ago while I was crying
into your neck but I also know that
sometimes it rains even when it’s not
supposed to and sometimes boys
kiss girls they shouldn’t and we tear
flowers out of the ground just to watch
them die and things change,
so I understand if you’re done,
but please, when you’re packing all your
old sweaters and books, don’t forget
to take all your three AM phone calls,
and photographs where we’re smiling
so wide it looks like we’ve never known
that feeling in the pit of your stomach
when someone screams “I don’t love you
Take back every kiss, every night you
fell asleep next to me, every poem I
wrote you, every song you sang to
me, every “I love you more fight,”
every shock I felt in my skin when
you brushed against me.
I was never scared of ghosts until you
left but now I see you everywhere and
god if you’re going to kill me please
just do it quickly because I see you
in everything and it’s making it hard
I won’t say I miss you but I think my mother knows anyway (via extrasad)
"Make it happen. Shock everyone."
Nothing better than playing drinking games with a bunch of good friends. Tonight will be fun.
"Fuck, I want to have her in ways no one else has ever had her or ever will have her."
"It’s funny how artistic we become when our hearts are broken."
my therapist taught me
to hold my chest and focus
the second the world becomes
and i’m just beginning to learn
the difference between fists
screaming, “let me out”
and sore knuckles on mahogany
saying, “let me in”.