But I'm Sarah. @heavycups-emptyhearts-blog - Tumblr Blog

Gnossienne

n. a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life, and somewhere in the hallways of their personality is a door locked from the inside, a stairway leading to a wing of the house that you’ve never fully explored—an unfinished attic that will remain maddeningly unknowable to you, because ultimately neither of you has a map, or a master key, or any way of knowing exactly where you stand. (via nyctaeus)

stonelario

heavycups-emptyhearts-blog

Ugh cassie

4gifs

621311198920-deactivated2014050

this is honestly heart breaking to watch

heavycups-emptyhearts-blog

Oh my god

rachaeldee

the pure joy of a runner’s high.

heavycups-emptyhearts-blog

Wtf is that tiffany's?

rstrk

Exactly.

on point

decided to upload this video 100% unedited bc im drunk and super proud of my progress, its the only thing ive ever stuck with and genuinely enjoyed. I think ive been hooping about 9 or 10 months. :-) Also be careful bc its pretty loud haha sorry!

heavycups-emptyhearts-blog

This is the perfect split between dancing and using a prop for me. I'm going to start doing this. Wow. Its beautiful and sexy and I want it.

fineyoungsatanist

i never understood the whole reaction towards mental illness where someone says “it’s all in your head” i feel like that statement is just as redundant as telling someone with pulmonary edema that “the fluid is all in your lungs” like yes. yeah thats exactly where it is get it out of there???

flipse-deactivated20210915

getoutofmyass-blog

SO MANY OF THE TOMATO SAUCE

thevioletsunflower

He looks so done in the last gif

cascadianstuntman-deactivated20

I’ve rebloged this 13 times and I will continue to do so for so many.

theapplepielifestyle

A boy sprawled next to me on the bus, elbows out, knee pointing sharp into my thigh. He frowned at me when I uncrossed my legs, unfolded my hands and splayed out like boys are taught to: all big, loose limbs. I made sure to jab him in the side with my pretty little sharp purse. At first he opened his mouth like I expected him to, but instead of speaking up he sat there, quiet, and took it for the whole bus ride. Like a girl. Once, a boy said my anger was cute, and he laughed, and I remember thinking that I should sit there and take it, because it isn’t ladylike to cause a scene and girls aren’t supposed to raise their voices. But then he laughed again and all I saw was my pretty little sharp nails digging into his cheek before drawing back and making a horribly unladylike fist. (my teacher informed me later that there is no ladylike way of making a fist.) When we were both in the principal’s office twenty minutes later him with a bloody mouth and cheek, me with skinned knuckles, I tried to explain in words that I didn’t have yet that I was tired of having my emotions not taken seriously just because I’m a girl. Girls are taught: be small, so boys can be big. Don’t take up any more space than absolutely necessary. Be small and smooth with soft edges and hold in the howling when they touch you and it hurts: the sandpaper scrape of their body hair that we would be shamed for having, the greedy hands that press too hard and too often take without asking permission. Girls are taught: be quiet and unimposing and oh so small when they heckle you with their big voices from the window of a car, because it’s rude to scream curse words back at them, and they’d just laugh anyway. We’re taught to pin on smiles for the boys who jeer at us on the street who see us as convenient bodies instead of people. Girls are taught: hush, be hairless and small and soft, so we sit there and take it and hold in the howling, pretend to be obedient lapdogs instead of the wolves we are. We pin pretty little sharp smiles on our faces instead of opening our mouths, because if we do we get accused of silly women emotions blowing everything out of proportion with our PMS, we get condescending pet names and not-so-discreet eyerolls. Once, I got told I punched like a girl. I told him, Good. I hope my pretty little sharp rings leave scars.

'My Perfume Doubles As Mace,' theappleppielifestyle. (via queenofeden)

abandonedography

admiralobvious

Possibly the saddest thing I’ve ever seen

susanna-k4ysen

this made me cry

okashido-deactivated20181230

Reblog this. We owe this person at least this much

dabhabit

When I was in the hospital I was roomed with a schizophrenic And she was the most gentle person I have ever met There was a boy with a long deep slit across his neck Who told very funny jokes A girl who never spoke a word Would draw the most beautiful pictures The boy who shook with anxiety Could hold the most intelligent conversations Even the girl who screamed in her sleep and picked at her skin Had a heart the size of the ocean We are not who you think we are