Duh

[clichedliving]

If you were an island; It would be grown on a deep sea of laughter. A thick jungle filled with trees of all sorts-with silliness and mischief and imagination and probably karate. each hike through your mind is a trek that leaves me in constant awe of...well, you. It is my job to watch it grow, to nuture, and support, and guide and love. I worry you’re beginning to cut down parts of yourself for others. I worry about your heart, so big, so open, so ready to be loved.

please don’t learn to light yourself on fire just to warm those around you.

[sashacoki]

[upliftourday]

[bnmxfld]

“After years of waiting, nothing came.”

— Radiohead (via bnmxfld)

[positivelybody]

Body hate free

[thegoodvybe]

[clichedliving]

Click, click, click, and post.

It’s been 3 full days since my last binge. Which has been semi easy, because things have been running smoothly. Firstly, I want to say wow, 3 FULL days of things running smoothly is incredibly new for me- not in a whoa my life is terrible sort of way-it’s just that I usually manage to create problems for myself daily; so 3 days of smooth sailing is something I’m proud of.

Today, my plans were derailed. Things out of my control literally surrounded me, covering the city, forcing all parents and guardians days to come to a sudden stop.

Snow day.

I know, I know, time with kids is a gift, I begrudgingly cherished the time we had fun. But I had shit I needed to do, things that having a child around for wouldn’t work. And HEY. Fuck you, watching true crime docs pantless while smoking a joint *is* a busy day, i never said a productive day. The second this beautiful plan slipped out of my currently injured hand, I immedialty was hungry.

But, no, I wasn’t. I just finished eating breakfast. I was anxious. I was no longer in control of the day, things had changed.

Ugh, change.

I took care of my only outside-of-the-house-responsibilities I had, and I tried to change my attitude. An easier task said than done. Don’t get me wrong, I can go with the flow, I’m chill. I’m chill as fuck. It’s my thing. But for someone who is chill as fuck I am incredibly neurotic and anxious and also not even remotely a single bit chill.

I just sat here rereading everything I just wrote, and all of this is just a fucking excuse as not talk about the real fucking thing going on today. I want to binge it, god dammit. but I wont. Breaking the cycle.

Straight up, my energy is completely gone. I have no interest in continuing to write. The best part about no one giving a shit about this is that I can just stop here and it doesn’t fucking matter.

Insignificance and it perks, you know?

[bnmxfld]

[clichedliving]

Well, here it goes.

I’m 28. I’m probably at least 100 pounds over weight. I’m a step mom. I’m lost in my depression and excuses. I don’t want to give my name, there’s something so nice an anonymity. It doesn’t even matter, chances of anyone reading this are hopefully slim.

Hey! You! Go Away!

Why did I post this if I don’t want anyone to read this, you ask, dying to hear me just fucking admit it.

Well, of course the answer is for some fucking validation. Human’s aren’t allowed to admit that seriously, so I pretend I don’t want anyone to see the drawing I spent hours on as i throw drop it to the ground, and loudly sigh, OOPS.

If I tell you to go away you’ll stay here and read this right?

I’m hoping posting this, I will maybe find someone else who feels like their entire life has become some ridiculous after school special where nothing interesting happens, and no one ever actually learns the moral of the story, and feel less alone.

Maybe it will give me some sort of goal to reach towards.

Maybe I’ll just have yet another blog I never look at again.

Just call me Cliché, I’m hoping to be here for awhile.