Daddy's and i's journey @daddysaj - Tumblr Blog

i’m not going to lie to you. cutting feels great. amazing, even. the rush of adrenaline, the sight of blood pouring out of you, the peaceful, warm feeling that spreads throughout your body. it feels good. it feels calm. but those few minutes of relief and release aren’t worth what comes next. the guilt, the shame, the disgust, the panicky feeling of “oh fuck, how do i hide this?”, those feelings never go away. you start off slow and shallow, maybe two or three cuts. but before you know it, you’re going deeper and deeper, and you begin to lose track of how many cuts you’ve just made. but that won’t be you, right? you can control it, right? wrong. you can’t. the urges, the overwhelming fucking urges, are so much stronger than you could imagine. soon, it’s all you think about. where should i hide the blades? when can i cut next? how do i clean this up? it takes over your mind. it quickly turns into an addiction. then there’s the scars. the white, the pink, the deep purple scars. the more you cut, the harder it is to hide. people will see them. people will stare. people will whisper behind your back. hell, some people will straight up confront you about them. it’s embarrassing. it’s uncomfortable and awkward. but, that won’t be you, right? wrong again. you’re naive to think that this is something you can control, something you can just stop and forget about. you won’t ever forget. and even when you’ve stopped and haven’t done it for years, every time something bad happens, the thought of cutting will sneak up in the back of your mind. yeah, cutting feels good. but is it worth it? absolutely fucking not. don’t start. i promise you, you don’t want this.

clowncarsgofast

This is the absolute goddamn fucking truth.. this is 100% accurate and I will never not-reblog it. Its always how a addiction starts. Cutting, heroin, meth, weed if you let it. You swear up and down “I won’t be a addict” “I won’t have tracks on my arms” “I won’t have fucked up teeth” “I won’t get bad acne” “I won’t have huge scars” “I’m not like you” oh but hunny you have no idea. It always starts off as “just one” then it goes to “just one more” “a few more” and you can’t stop. It takes over your fucking existence. You regret it. Don’t do it, it’s not worth it.

maegi

^ definitely one of the best replies i’ve seen to this post. people don’t understand how easy it is to start, yet how extremely difficult it is to try and stop.

queen-of-the-virgos

Lots of um…Virgos…

theexfiles-deactivated20190101

IM GOING TO STAB MYSELF IN THE FOOT I JUST SENT MY ENGLISH TEACHER MY ESSAY ON HAMLET AND IT WAS STILL NAMED “the fresh prince of denmark yo holla”

bekstek

oh man, i love receiving unedited final drafts:

cracks me up every time

dom: (beating me with a belt) "Keep Counting."

dom: (slapping me in the face) "Good Girl."

dom: (pounding me into the bed) "Just take it."

dom: (accidentally steps on my toe) "OH MY GOD, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!"

dateagirlwhosweird

Date a girl who flirts exclusively in lines from all four Bionicle movies

daddyshlg-deactivated20180722

Little girls can scream and cry but Daddy does what he wants.

silky-bunny-princess-deactivate

Marks like these make me feel all warm inside

permeate

gamgee

you dont even need to cut the tops off strawberries you can just eat the whole thing theyre like kiwis you can just eat all of it

cinged-deactivated20180706

depraved-fantasies-deactivated2

He saw her the first time in the courtyard park behind the apartment building where she lived. She was a bit nerdy, but cute and innocent. She was a sweetheart to everyone, especially to her dog and her boyfriend. She was out walking with at least one of them almost every day.

The poor girl was naive, but it took a little time to win her confidence. Soon she would talk to him whenever they saw each other in the park. It was more of an effort to get her to come to his condo the first time, when her boyfriend wasn’t around, and even longer before she would accept a drink. He was careful not to alarm her suspicions by hitting on her directly. In the end, it was quite a project - but it was worth it to see the look of mingled fear, shame and lust in her cute face the first time he pushed his dick into her.

micdotcom

Electing Trump could cost us $1,000,000,000,000

Oxford Economics, a research firm part of Oxford University’s business college, issued a report last week which said that Donald Trump’s policies would remove $1 trillion from the U.S. economy. That’s mostly because of protectionist trade policies, tax breaks, and a costly plan to deport America’s undocumented immigrants. Another report estimates we’ll lose a shocking number of jobs too.

babycocodill

lifeundefeated-deactivated20140

Yea it’s clearly our “generation that’s making homosexuality a trend.” Seriously, pisses me off when people say that. look at this! It’s always been around, it’s not a trend, it’s real. It’s beautiful.

witchesbitchesandbritches

These are really beautiful images.

grizzlyadventures

History Lesson: In America from about 1700-1920 there was a social rule that said that women did not have a sex drive. According to men, all women ever were asexual and only ever had sex because their husbands wanted it and as a good doting wife they would open up for him. That said, lesbians flourished in this time! Because it was believed that women did not have sex, when two women would share a house and finances together (called a Boston Marriage, look it up!) nobody thought anything of it. Because clearly they werent homosexuals since clearly women were incapable of being independently sexual. The more you know!

thefingerfuckingfemalefury

<3 VINTAGE LESBIAN HISTORY <3

makeupbag

http://makeupbag.tumblr.com

frogmunist-deactivated20190724

A man is driving down the road and breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, “My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?” The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man is disappointed but thanks them anyway and goes about his merry way. Some years later, the same man breaks down in front of the same monastery. The monks accept him, feed him, even fix his car. That night, he hears the same strange noise that he had heard years earlier. The next morning, he asks what it is, but the monks reply, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man says, “All right, all right. I’m *dying* to know. If the only way I can find out what that sound was is to become a monk, how do I become a monk?” The monks reply, “You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of sand pebbles. When you find these numbers, you will become a monk.” The man sets about his task. Forty-five years later, he returns and knocks on the door of the monastery. He says, “I have traveled the earth and have found what you have asked for. There are 145,236,284,232 blades of grass and 231,281,219,999,129,382 sand pebbles on the earth.” The monks reply, “Congratulations. You are now a monk. We shall now show you the way to the sound.” The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, “The sound is right behind that door.” The man reaches for the knob, but the door is locked. He says, “Real funny. May I have the key?” The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man demands the key to the stone door. The monks give him the key, and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. He demands another key from the monks, who provide it. Behind that door is another door, this one made of sapphire. So it went until the man had gone through doors of emerald, silver, topaz, and amethyst. Finally, the monks say, “This is the last key to the last door.” The man is relieved to no end. He unlocks the door, turns the knob, and behind that door he is amazed to find the source of that strange sound. But I can’t tell you what it is because you’re not a monk

the-desolated-quill

Originally posted by disneyasastrology

violent-darts

BWAHAHAHAHAH.

kvothe-kingkiller

the way i learned this, it was always told through spoken word. And you’d do the door thing for ages. AGES. literally just making up any old material. ‘behind the foam door is a door made of spinach’ that kind of shit. Go on until whoever is listening has already begged you to stop and has now gone on to pleading, clutching your shirt on their knees pleading. And when you finally said the last line? People went fucking nuts Like there was a good chance of just getting the teeth knocked out of you after telling that joke.

A friend of mine did that shit for 30 minutes on a camp once. The entire fucking bus just exploded in anger when she finished. It was a fucking massacre.