are you allowed to be upset if you never tell anyone what the real problem is?
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Cosimo Galluzzi
styofa doing anything
almost home
Peter Solarz

★
Xuebing Du
RMH
YOU ARE THE REASON
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Sade Olutola

ellievsbear
Not today Justin

Andulka
🪼

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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@fishfucked
are you allowed to be upset if you never tell anyone what the real problem is?
Double Ketchup, Ralph Goings, 1996-97
Oil on canvas 40 x 60 in. (101.6 x 152.4 cm)
YOU GOT TO BELIEVE IN POETRY CAUSE EVERYTHING IN THIS LIFE, INCLUDING YOU WILL FAIL YOU.
Louise Glück, from “October”, Poems 1962-2012 via weltenwellen and xshayarsha
I do not know the name of the feeling that I have for you. But it is a special tenderness, something I have never felt until now, not for anyone.
– Gustave Flaubert
running yourself into the ground because it "feels good" but actually because it secretly feels bad like a cheese grater against all the soft bits of your mind and running yourself into the ground specifically because it feels very bad and right now the roadrash will give some kind of visual effect to the rest of the experience of your suffering and running yourself into the ground because you were raised religious and/or with strict parents and now you feel like you need an excuse any time you burn out or else it's not burnout it's laziness and running yourself into the ground so you can be really sure it's actually depression and not just because you ate something suspicious
and running yourself into the ground because the back of your throat tastes like rotted fish and yet everybody wants you to get up and make a pretty dance about it and running yourself into the ground like a matchstick because if you're going to have to be here you want to blaze about it and running yourself into the ground like a darkened landing strip so the plane wheels spark up and your hometown finally disappears in the distance good fucking riddance
and running yourself into the ground because of some fucked up great-great-grandparent's hard work aesthetic and because you somehow owe it to your parents, who owed it to their own parents, because owing things is normal in your family, like love is a cost-value analysis and running yourself into the ground and getting up and pretending that, like, this isn't burning the candle at both ends. two days is plenty to get back into it.
you're not spiraling, you're just manifesting wealth and happiness. you're not spiraling, the radio in your chest just has low batteries. what do you mean that's the sound of distress. when they went out looking, they never found your pilot. you haven't been in this body for years now. you found yourself and put her into a box and then put her up on a shelf. she's still safe up there and she's still a kid.
running yourself into the ground and the constant knowledge: you don't even know where you're going and you don't like the experience. but where ever it is: you're not there yet.
ever feel like you know and are capable of making your life better but for some reason for some reason you don't want to do it
ℎ𝑒𝑦
few pics of me with hella filters ♡´・ᴗ・`♡
new bowl is basically a snow globe
i am nancy botwin
“Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling”
—Oscar Wilde
Auguste Clésinger, Woman Bitten by a Serpent (1847)