ellievsbear
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Game of Thrones Daily
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h
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sheepfilms
JBB: An Artblog!
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Misplaced Lens Cap
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
almost home
KIROKAZE
trying on a metaphor
blake kathryn
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
we're not kids anymore.
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
dirt enthusiast
seen from United States
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@cannotcomeupwithone
This one time I was born, and then forced to go to school and told to “live” life the way I wanted but then was corrected on every breath I took and I didn’t enjoy anything; specifically because no one enjoyed me.
If this isn’t tragedy, I don’t know what is.
One time in high school I was waiting to talk to the Vice Principal and this other kid came in and sat down next to me. He said “What are you in for?” And I said “Oh, they just want to know if it’s cool if I miss my classes tomorrow to run sound and lights for a presentation in the auditorium. What are you in for?” and he said that he stabbed a kid with a screwdriver. I told him we led very different lives and he agreed.
Update on this post that’s somehow made it to the part of tumblr where the Hamilton fandom and Superwholock intersect: I looked this kid up and his profile picture is an unbelievably close up shot of his five year old daughter with beaded vacation braids who is also clearly in the middle of sobbing very heavily.
I've been looking for this post for so long.... *sheds tears*
I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?
Ernest Hemingway (via pre-party)
If you ever feel like whatever you deserve and was meant to be yours has been given away to someone else, know that it was never meant to be for you. What you deserve will always be yours; it'll always come back to you.
A shit array of words that'll make sense only when they're meant to make sense for you.
What’s Your Everyday Hustle?
Join the conversation by sharing your story below! Tell us what you are doing to make ends meet and chase the American Dream. We want to hear from you.
Share your story as part of our docuseries, “My Everyday Hustle,” which profiles five hard-working Americans’ struggles and successes in supporting themselves and their families in jobs that most people know little about. Meet a dog-walker, an on-demand driver, a street cart vendor, a subway performer, and a courier, and learn what it means to truly ‘hustle’ in New York City. Catch the full episodes right here on our page.
Mastering the art of doing nothing
The best day of my life is yet to come.
Lament of a dying girl
The worst thing you can do is decide if you're worth someone else's love. They chose to love you for who you are; you aren't allowed to decide if you're worth it or not.
something my senseless neurons came up with
my precious.
It'll all make sense again.
at 9:43 my universe changed.
feeling awfully blue.
Today i thought about self-love.
For a major chunk of my life, I wasn't famialir to the concept. So, basically, I looked for appreciation and acceptance from others. Then, when i did hear about it, i was like, “Oh! so its all about accepting how beautiful i look, how fit my body is, how smart i am” and so on. So, i became conceited, in the name of self-love.
Today morning, i woke up with the weirdest realization. I don't know why or how my brain could muster so much wisdom over its sub-conscious state; but i discovered that “self-love” is so much more than I LED MYSELF TO BELIEVE.
Its about respecting your OWN ideas, thoughts and beliefs. Its about recognizing myself, for the person i am and could become. its about facing your fears, feelings and fetishes. and bloody ACCEPTING them!
and that is one hell of a task to do. after this serene thought at 7 in the morning, i got stressed by how under-developed i am (don't get wrong ideas, psh) MENTALLY. and i went back to sleep. But now, at 7:28 in the evening, with my mind swirling and drowning in itself, maybe this could be one of the things i finally worked on.
yours truly,
jem x
I feel quite inspired all of a sudden. I know that barely one person will come across this -- and successfully ignore this seemingly motivational paragraph. And honestly, it wouldn't matter the least bit. Because I am going to rant; and its better to keep safe distance from my word vomit.
So, I watched a movie, finished it about 5 minutes ago. And as always, it inspired me to do something with my life -- not just sit in a corner and dream, but to bring my dreams into action (cheesy, i know).
I got up, extremely energized from my limber state, and walked into my room. The first idea that ran through my mind was -- LETS START A YOUTUBE CHANNEL. because thats what you do today, to be famous and seemingly productive. But, sadly, I can't talk to save my life or sing or dance (you get the idea). What i can do is type.
But what would i type about? And thats when the “right” question kicked into my mind. If I could tell the world something, what would it be? What do I have to share?
surely, I can spread positive messages about loving yourself and acceptance and kindness. But it wouldn't be right. My life is a dull moment in the chaotic, kaleidoscopic world; a monotone. I haven't been through any “harsh” moments that would allow me the honor of sharing my life. True, I have been through all cliched difficulties a teenage life can offer, but nothing as esteemed that would make me want to change the world.
And, FINALLY, i found why my life seems like trash. I have nothing to say. My words, my voice is worth nothing because its hollow. It doesn't help others, it doesn't help me!
And if i want to live the life i dream of, I have to find something. My voice, my thoughts, myself - they have to mean something. Its time to take a risk. And no matter how lost i feel right now, i will find my risk and dive into it face front. Because my life deserves to be lived.
yours truly,
jem x
Elle, unsatisfied with life, walks up the ladder of Marzerine. Little did she know she would never return. Learning new secrets, meeting new creatures; al...
READ MY BOOK.
troye avoids the camera like I avoid my responsibilities
Sexily??
The first meet
the blinding light of the screen pierced my eyes, as i struggled to find the right song. it was almost midnight and i lay twisted on my bed, praying for sleep to come. my eyes were drooping but i couldn't sleep, like natures very own personal vengeance for getting up late in the morning. it wasn't very late either. it was bloody 7! and a girl’s gotta get her sleep!!
struggling with my conscience, i managed to conjure up a tad impractical situation, unrealistic enough to be extended into a dream. it was then, that i heard a loud knock. at least it sounded like one. “very well, first my body doesn't want to sleep.. now my sister” i murmured as i walked to the bedroom door. I put in as much aggression as i could to open the door, but to my surprising dismay, no one was out there. ‘maybe one of her pranks..’ and i creeped back into bed. then i saw the shadow. A tall, cat like gait, graceful enough to be a girl’s. ‘great, now you start hallucinating..or maybe this is a dream. this is a dream. Thank go I'm finally asleep.’ and with that wonderful thought i lay in bed, waiting to see where my imagination would take me. slowly, the window door slid open and walked in this dark shadow, glimmering of the edges; which at that point had assumed was the light from the back road. i lay still, my body slowly realising that something was wrong, my heartbeat picking up the pace. yet my mind chided the innocent ignorance of my body. ‘its just a dream, what are getting worked up over?’ i tried controlling my breath as the shadowed figure approached me; its brightness ever increasing. despite the normal expectation that the light would hinder my sight, it helped me see clearer. i could faintly make out the jaw line, sharp as a knife and the tiny forehead, overshadowed by a thick mass a black waves falling on either sides of a long face. the light shone across the room, making everything gleam in an eerie sort of way. i looked back at the face and caught my breath. her lips were full and pink, her eyes black as coal, but deep enough to make you wonder if they were the doors to the universe. her lashes were thick and black, strong enough to break hearts. and her smile, bright enough to melt a city of hearts. i gasped again, feeling that the face was too familiar; yet strange. ‘i know who she is! who is she?’ my mind raced through all the faces it had known, rummaging through faces of girls and boys alike. her aura seemed like home, it was almost like….. mine.
now wait. here’s where everything would typically go to shit. i would realise that she’s my alter ego from a parallel universe. and how self-obsessed i must be to have such a gratifying description of myself. but let me assure you; nothing in my life is predictable. especially not the fun parts; but who said anything about fun?
i staggered to the head of my bed, wanting for my brain to realise that this was way beyond its capability to handle. these sort of dreams were limited to “those nights”. but i wouldn't wake up. so i screamed. surely, a truly physical act of fear or any intense emotion is bound to jerk the mind back into reality. so did mine. and once again, i had only believed so. i woke up panting, hands on my head, clutching at my hair. i was too afraid to get up and wash my face, what if i were to see my face, what if it had changed for real. ‘stop that stupid bullshit. faces don't change over dreams. you'll be fine.’ and with that lovely thought i went to wash my face. my hands stumbled across the switches that i had known for 4 years. i finally fumbled on the right switch and the light blared right into my eyes. my face was almost white as paper (its usually yellow at night) and my lips bleeding from probably when i bit myself from screaming at the top of my lungs. my hair fell straight across my face, and my face looked like it always had. except more frightened and pale. like i said. My mind hit lout-gear and i started backing out. as if standing in front of the mirror was hurting my heart. my lungs heart and my head pounded. maybe i saw something i shouldn't have. “i know i should've slept early!” i tried to sound angry but the voice was a bare creak. scared, i rushed to my bed, the bathroom lights still on. and chanted my way to whatever sleep my brain could conjure.
In my dreams, the “real” subconscious ones, i had expected them to be as horrifying as what i had seen earlier. but they were just flashes of faces and voices. Some i barely recognised, the others were heartbreakingly beautiful. they whispered in a hurry, as if their talk could fix something broke. i tried to listen harder - to see if they could mend something broken of mine (me). with every inch that i closed onto their voices, the staggering pain in my chest returned. almost as if, the voices were protecting themselves. but the harmony and beauty of the voices struck me harder with each hushed word and i sunk deeper into the craving. and i woke. light barely poured through the small opening in the curtain and my brain, almost (just almost) back to normal functioning, started to prepare itself for the day ahead. my to-do list was on its way to completion. i was on my feet and just about to tie my hair, when i recalled the night. the pounding in my brain grew and fell back on my bed. ‘no, it was just a dream. it couldn't have happened otherwise.’ i sucked in a few breaths and gathers whatever courage i had left. i had to make it through this one more day. could be the last. just get through it.
and with that happy thought i began my day.
