@b0nemilk - Tumblr Blog

Sounds like u know what ur capablr & incapable of. Tbh imo ur like unstable in life in general frm ur page. Ur gunna need to put effort in self improvement. It dnt jst show up. U gotta chase & work for it. Face the ugly side of urself & habits, then just work to improve. It not easy. But u gotta do it or jst take the fct u are just gunna linger in the same place u are & wat u feel forevrr

How I’m reading that

I’m 26 years old with a disorganized attachment style disorganized closet disorganized car no food in the fridge no friends no life outside of dopamine chasing no goals or future plan I simply exist just enough for the next day. Wanting change but completely overwhelmed on where to start. Yearning for more purpose but stuck playing mediocre jobs. Out side I am goofy and I love joking and making people laugh in the inside I am running circles around in my head questioning how long can I keep up a facade till total break into change. When will I feel like I have control. When will discipline show my maturity stuck between wanting to be taken care of but never trusting enough. I want to be independent but lack the skills to save and grow. Painfully conscious of my stupidity but forgiving enough to know I’m learning. A constant cycle of a teacher disciplining a child for learning.

I really am just a mess

Footage from my bday <3 I looked pretty :3

Are you birthdaymaxxing?

I did yes

My birthday is tmr 0.0

muddyswirls

Not a guitar player , not a singer

A Familiar Feeling

I stick my hand out during a breezy, cool Sunday summer night. The moon gleams before my dashboard, and the sounds of classic blues play over my car's radio loud, with the windows down.

The bugs hit my hands, sending quick, semi-painful snaps on my palm as I let my hand feel the wind rush past my fingers.

Glimpses of fireflies bash my windshield as I drive far past the speed limit, sending bright flashes of yellow-green colors across my view.

The smell of sickly sweet, wet-cut grass and rotting leaf litter dances around my nose as I tell myself, “I think I should go to therapy.”

My shoulders bounce with each hi-hat. I continue to dig deeper in this vulnerable moment. I dance half-heartedly while I focus on the lines on the road, swaying in front of me.

Trying to concentrate on my destination, all while finally I'm allowed in an unlocked portion of my psyche.

I battle between getting to them safe or completely surrendering to the rare sonder feeling of myself almost kissing the guardrail. I question myself in a swift manner.

I sip more from my shameful cheap liquor and cheap low-calorie soda as I tell myself, “I don't deserve this. Where am I?”

Not in a way that I don't know where I'm going in the moment, but in a way where, when my hand pulls back into my window and I try to answer my rapid reaction to each mental question, I spin deeper in my driver's seat and grip my steering wheel, and abruptly, without notice, my drive is over.

Leaving it all again until I feel that familiar feeling.