waiter: how’s your meal? shakira: it’s wonderful thanks shakira’s hips: she hates it shakira: son of a

roma★
One Nice Bug Per Day
Claire Keane
cherry valley forever
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if i look back, i am lost
Today's Document
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
sheepfilms
No title available
almost home

⁂
will byers stan first human second

@theartofmadeline

pixel skylines
NASA
Monterey Bay Aquarium
styofa doing anything
Not today Justin
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@awesomeunsername
waiter: how’s your meal? shakira: it’s wonderful thanks shakira’s hips: she hates it shakira: son of a
It starts in your hands. The feeling that you need to hold something that you just can’t grasp The loss of control that you could get back if you were to only hold on a little bit tighter. They tingle and itch with slippery palms. They distract you from the tightness in your throat. The words that won’t come out correctly. They don’t even form. Simple sounds get caught behind your tongue and make your teeth feel like metal. Like lead. Your chest feels fragile. Like it’s holding too much. The pressure of the words that the rubber band is blocking won’t fade. Your hands cannot free you from your restraint. It heaves and heaves, but to no avail. You are inhaling but you are not breathing. You silently battle with your body that has betrayed you. Fighting with the vessel in which you dwell. Scraping for an inch of control. Until you don’t. Your chest expands Your throat relaxes Your hands can hold You only had to lose detach from yourself to win.
Disassociating (via andygrayselfie)
http://iglovequotes.net/