Del Mar @badgurlsklub - Tumblr Blog

it’s so weird not being friends with people that used to be really important to u like u never stop being reminded of them bc their personalities and sense of humor and so many little details about them will always be in ur brain like u could see something in a store and think “they would like that” or watch a video and think “they would think this is funny” or even just the most random shit will make u think of them and it’s such a weird feeling

post--grad

i’m back at my ancestral home (lowe’s) and I just watched a very burly man in a lot of flannel carry a potted orchid SO TENDERLY across the parking lot

raindancejodi

A sentence that starts with “i’m back at my ancestral home (lowe’s)” has to work really hard to make the end of that sentence equally as amazing and by god you’ve done it

nflstreet-deactivated20180710

swarnpert

thoughts on being gay?

recommend

“break my heart”

break my heart

dc brogan

no—nobody has ever broken my heart, torn me into pieces, or left me for dead. i’ve never endured how cruel and twisted it feels to be cheated on, used, or rejected.

no, i’ve never let anybody break my heart. instead, i break my own heart in various ways. i act promiscuously, searching for sex with neither commitment nor emotional connection. i don’t ask for their name, and they don’t ask for mine. i’d call them one night stands, but i’m long gone before the sun rises. i leave before there is ever a chance of something more—and does that make me a whore? the feeling of loneliness that encompasses me after these nights is fleeting, but it still hurts.

yet— i still engage in these behaviors because it is easier for me to have meaningless and random sex with a stranger, than it is to be vulnerable and to let someone in. because what if they hurt me? what if this person that i love breaks my heart, or worse, what if i break theirs? i couldn’t live with myself if i ever broke someone, or left them feeling like nothing. so instead—i take control, and i break my own heart, so that i don’t break theirs, and they don’t break mine.

i become engulfed in all of these feelings that i keep bottled up inside of me, because i never fully open up to anybody the way that other people do. i’ve never said i love you first, asked someone out on a date, or pursued anyone. i’ve never been on a date, or had a relationship longer than a night.

however, i fear vulnerability, just as much as i do crave it, and boy do i crave it on nights like these when i feel irrevocably alone. so maybe from hereon-out i’ll learn how to crave vulnerability, more than i do fear it. i’ll make the first move, i’ll end the meaningless sex, i’ll say i love you first. i’ll learn how to run to people, instead of running away from them. i’ll make love for the first time instead of just fucking. i’ll fall deep in a passionate telenovela-like love. and if it does not work out the way it always does, i’ll let someone break my heart. because maybe, that is what will make me not feel so broken...

inahiddenplace

ok but .. insulting someone’s laugh or smile is possibly.. the worst.. why would u try 2 make someone self conscious about the way they express their joy.. like ?

hotcommunist-deactivated2019032

last night I was denouncing some forgettable shitbag to my girlfriend and said “even the ground wouldn’t want him to rot in it” and was instantly projected into the body of a gnarled old irish woman 200 years ago, spinning thread and spitting on the ground as I bitch and look out to sea.

cuddlingwithsatan

When you bitch so hard you astral project into one of your past lives

tai-korczak

23 Emotions people feel, but can’t explain

Sonder: The realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own.

Opia: The ambiguous intensity of Looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.

Énouement: The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

Vellichor: The strange wistfulness of used bookshops.

Rubatosis: The unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.

Kenopsia: The eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet.

Mauerbauertraurigkeit: The inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.

Jouska: A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

Chrysalism: The amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

Vemödalen: The frustration of photographic something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist.

Anecdoche: A conversation in which everyone is talking, but nobody is listening

Ellipsism: A sadness that you’ll never be able to know how history will turn out.

Kuebiko: A state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence.

Lachesism: The desire to be struck by disaster – to survive a plane crash, or to lose everything in a fire.

Exulansis: The tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it.

Adronitis: Frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.

Rückkehrunruhe: The feeling of returning home after an immersive trip only to find it fading rapidly from your awareness.

Nodus Tollens: The realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore.

Onism: The frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time.

Liberosis: The desire to care less about things.

Altschmerz: Weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years.

Occhiolism: The awareness of the smallness of your perspective.

Source article. Where words came from.

wrote this poem because i can’t sleep&was feelin creative... Writing community & fellow followers , let me know what you think!!! please xx i love constructive criticism!