Latest Posts by sometimes-but-not-always - Page 8

As soon as you think “maybe I can get up early and just finish it tomorrow” you’ve already lost

College students only have 2 levels of stress:

1) I don’t give a fuck

2) OH MY GOD IF I CAN’T DO THIS MY LIFE IS OVER I’M GONNA HAVE TO WORK AT MCDONALDS

There is no in between.

have you ever not liked someone in a romantic way and everything is cool and all then they do something small like touch your shoulder or say something funny and you just kind of freeze and think

oh

oh no

I’ve been having bad days and drawing this helped me remember things.

I hope it helps you, too.

Have you ever looked at someone while they’re doing something small like driving or laughing or eating and just smile bc you like them so much

signs from most to least positive

sagittarius leo libra aquarius taurus gemini cancer aries pisces capricorn virgo scorpio

"Depressed? Do something that makes you happy!"

honestly if you can’t bother to text me back then you cant cum in my mouth like it’s common courtesy

BEST TO WORST BOOTY IN THE ZODIAC

if you put a frog in boiling water, it will jump out.

if you put a frog in warm water and gradually turn up the heat until the water is boiling, the frog will remain there until it dies.

and that is an abusive relationship.

I’m the type that loves clingy. You can’t sleep at 3 am, maybe 4? That’s okay, call me. I don’t mind if you wake me up. You’re never annoying to me, no matter how many times you call or text me. I love it. I love that you care so much.

NICEST TO MEANEST SIGNS

saggitarus

capricorn

aquarius

gemini

leo

taurus

pisces

cancer

virgo

scorpio

libra

aries

An eating disorder isn’t thin wrists and tiny bellies.

It’s 2 clementines, half an orange, and fuck I am a failure.

"I’ve never been to war. I can’t have PTSD." Yes, you can.

"I’m not suicidal. I can’t have depression." Yes, you can.

"He’s never hit me. It can’t be abuse." Yes, it can.

Suffering is not a contest. Your experiences are valid. Seek out the help you need.

reblog this if you started worrying about your weight before you were 16

(x)

But I don’t want small talk. Text me, and without saying hello, tell me why you got so angry at your sister this morning. Tell me why you have a scar shaped like Europe on the left side of your neck. Send me paragraphs about the time you spent at your grandmother’s house that one summer. Call me when I’m half asleep and tell me why you believe in God. Tell me about the first time you saw your dad cry. Go on for hours about things that may not seem important because I promise that I’ll be hanging on to every word you say. Tell me everything. I don’t want someone who just talks about the weather.

I want to know everything about you @ahurleygirl (via laheartbeat)

whenever somebody says like “so what did you do today?” just look off into the distance and say “the right thing”

She stretches out across your sheets; she’s all legs and red lipstick. You don’t remember when she got here, but you know she’s not leaving yet. She reaches out, runs a hand through your hair. She smirks, purrs: “Just stay in bed.” She curls up on your chest, clothed in other people’s diamonds and a long, black dress. Her fingers play invisible piano keys across your collarbones and she plants kisses on your neck when you should be taking a shower, getting dressed. You can’t get a word in edge-wise because she’s constantly asking you: “Remember that one time..?” And your mouth doesn’t work. And your brain doesn’t think. And are your eyes blinking? I don’t know. When was the last time you ate? She’s there when you try to return that call, when you go to put on your shoes. She powders her nose and gives you sideways glances at the liqour store. She laughs at jokes you don’t catch. She traces your lips with a well-manicured nail, asks you constantly to forgive her. She never apologizes. She never changes. When she falls asleep beside you, you can’t do anything but stare at her or the ceiling or her or the ceiling or her or the ceiling— She keeps you awake with her constant shifting. In the morning, you are empty and nauseous, with an ache behind your eyes and the panicked feeling that you’re wasting the best years of your life. Slowly. Pointlessly. One day at a time. Your friends tell you to leave her, but it’s not that easy. You don’t remember a Before and you can’t imagine an After. So, you make a quiet life together, just the two of you. You sleep in until noon and stay up drinking every night. You quit your part-time job to spend every day with her. Until she gets bored, and she always gets bored. When she does, she escalates. A little cocaine. Some scratch marks down your legs. Waking up in the bathtub, shaking. Those pills look just like candy, don’t they? But, she reaches out, runs a hand through your hair. She smirks. Purrs: “Just stay in bed.” They compare her so often to a little black rain cloud, a wilting flower—but she is so much more complex. Infinitely more tragic. She’s the feeling you get at a strangers funeral, like maybe you should cry or just not be there. My Depression is the first person I ever fell in love with. And together, we are wasting the best years of my life. Slowly. Pointlessly. One day at a time— Those pills look just like candy, don’t they?

excerpt from my novel TL Jablonowski (via littlevirtue)