Måne

Hi. I'm Cel. This is a blog full of literally random things. Probably depressing. Sorru.

[aliceplayswithfire-blog]

So I'm raising money to get a chest binder for my friend bc his parents are really conservative and burned his last one so I wanna get him one. Donate here: https://www.gofundme.com/roans-chest-binder

[aliceplayswithfire-blog]

Did I ever tell you guys about my teacher that, when I had sprained my wrist and couldn't write, told me to 'write with the other hand'? 'cause that happened.

[aliceplayswithfire-blog]

Can someone tell me what it's like to have parents and a stable family?

[aliceplayswithfire-blog]

I can't do a damn thing without being mocked and ridiculed. I cannot wear shorts or a tank top, because I look like a slut. I can't wear fucking jeans and a jacket because it's 100 degrees outside. I have c-cups and I'm sorry if the slight indention you see is arousing but I'm not fucking yours and I'm not a fucking toy so stop treating me like I'm something for you to gawk at because I'm I a human and I have rights and fuck you if you think I should be sexualized because of my gender. God forbid someone tell a man he looks like a prude or that he's a slut because he has too much sex. Women are not your objects. Men are not superior. H o w. M a n y. P e o p l e. H a v e. T o. S a y. T h i s.

[clubsprout]

tomorrow’s gonna be just fine. that conflict you’re having with your friend will blow over. no one secretly hates you. the world is not out to get you. it’s ok to feel stressed out. it’s ok to crack under pressure sometimes. you are perfectly capable of enduring whatever life throws your way. everything will be alright. you’re gonna be ok.

[aliceplayswithfire-blog]

Youtubers are the best.

[jupiterreed]

FORGIVENESS & OTHER RITUALS MY BODY TAUGHT ME

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m a sinkhole with a body. I’m sorry I left you that note on the fridge with all these swallowed words strung up like a stream of dirty fleas. Sorry I forgot to turn off the kitchen light again. Sorry for the sob stories, for the shitty excuses, sorry for all the aches I bit into your bones. Sorry I finished the last bit of the cake. Sorry you couldn’t dream tonight, sorry my sonnets kept you awake. Sorry about the mess in the bathroom, how the tiles stare up at us questioningly, the dead roses in the sun-slurping garden, my coffee spills staining all your history books. Sorry I haven’t left. Packed my bags and sailed to somewhere my indignation comes and smothers me to sleep. Somewhere this swan song has an end. I’m sorry I don’t curve like her, I’m sorry you came in search for an altar and found a wasteland instead. I’m sorry about the bones that don’t fit right. I’m sorry about the song you always hate and how it brims like a river upon my blue lips. I’m sorry I sound like an overdose of acid, I’m sorry my kisses plant cold sores in your mouth. I’m sorry for the massacre in Berlin. I’m sorry for the crashing comets, for seeing patterns in your behavior that don’t exist. I’m sorry for the blood on the walls. I’m sorry I’m sick of saying I’m sorry. One last sorry for the road? I’m sorry I can’t be sorry anymore. I forgive myself for the hurt I’ve caused us. I forgive myself with moondust in my mouth and lilacs curled around my wolf-teeth. I forgive myself for all the sorrows of tomorrow, for the way my voice rattles when I speak, for the look in your eyes when you say you haven’t loved me since Friday and I find another girl’s lipstick on your neck and I forgive us for pretending we had it all figured out. For attempting to light up the sails of a ship that’s sinking to frails. I forgive myself for trying and I forgive you for not trying enough. I forgive myself for finally crossing the threshold, for finally turning the fucking kitchen light off. I forgive myself for all the small crimes, for leaving daffodils at your doorsteps, for the mascara-burnt tears and all the wishes we made on broken plates. I forgive myself for all these apologies I’ve been choking on. I close my eyes. I let go. I’m not sorry anymore.

[aliceplayswithfire-blog]

Oh my god.

[sorealmaria]

She loves fictional characters because she has that bad habit to love someone who can’t love her back.

sorealmaria (via sorealmaria)

[artsyskills]

SPOOKY ILLUSTRATIONS OF POP CULTURE ICONS BY LUCAS DAVID

More by the Artist Here

[wnq-writers]

25% OFF + FREE WORLDWIDE SHIPPING ON EVERYTHING - ENDS TONIGHT AT MIDNIGHT PT - ORDER NOW TO RECEIVE BY CHRISTMAS

[art-with-joy]

I took two otps and ruined simultaneously. Oh well.

[aliceplayswithfire-blog]

YAS

[hplyrikz]

It’s a most distressing affliction to have a sentimental heart and a skeptical mind.

Naguib Mahfouz, Sugar Street (via hplyrikz)

[wordsnquotes]

That’s what was great about him. He tried. Not many do…

Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild  (via wordsnquotes)

[hplyrikz]

“Being with you never felt wrong. It’s the one thing I did right. You’re the one thing I did right.”

Becca Fitzpatrick, Crescendo (via hplyrikz)

[booksqouted]

Every revolution starts and ends with his lips

Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey (via booksqouted)

[kushandwisdom]

Friends are angels who lift our feet when our own wings have trouble remembering how to fly.

- Unknown (via thelovenotebook)

[aliceplayswithfire-blog]

I love the way she moves, like the world is hers for the taking. I love the way she talks, always challenging you to contradict her. I love the way she thinks, coming up with the weirdest plans that will always go wrong, but I always go along with them anyways. Because I love her. All of her.

AlicePlaysWithFire (Me) On Wattpad. Check out How Many Pounds Until Perfect? Here

[aliceplayswithfire-blog]

I'm thinking about Donald Trump's butthole.

Pewdiepie, 2k16