I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF
This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.
Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.
w-what if potato is actually lucky

oozey mess

#extradirty
Jules of Nature
occasionally subtle
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Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Cosmic Funnies
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@livingfromimagining
I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF
This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.
Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.
w-what if potato is actually lucky
???
I keep thinking that it’s fine, that it’s all just a phase
But this phase keeps returning and it won’t go away.
Is there a truth I have to face, or am I telling myself a lie.
If I’m nothing anymore, then I won’t have to explain why.
I’m a disappointment, I’m not good enough, a failure, a fraud,
Lazy, unaccomplished, why am I still about?
All these stupid simple things, don’t come easy to me.
I don’t understand why I can’t do it, so how can I make them see?
Time and time again I despise my own stupidity.
My own pulse is maddening, I can’t bear to be.
I hate seeing myself, I hate acting this way,
I hate being myself, I wish my skin would go away.
I FUCKING hate it, I HATE IT, I hate responsibility.
I hate being a burden, I hate having people count on me.
Mistake after mistake, I want to carve them into my skin.
Nothing is enough punishment, for how I am feels like a sin.
Destroy myself, DESTROY MYSELF, rip apart every piece.
Until the reality I’m feeling starts to decrease.
….
If it gets too bad, we can always stop existing.
If we can’t fix it, then why should we keep resisting?
I really think I need help, but I feel too numb to cry.
And is it really for attention, when no one knows I want to die?
…
I would never do it, even with the medicine right next to me.
I would never do it, even though it would be so easy.
I would never imagine going to bed and not waking up the next day.
I would never stop caring about what others would feel, think or say.
I would never lose control, I would always chose to stay.
As I keep repeating to myself, I can always die another day
….
I would never take the jump, I would never grab the knife.
Even if it’s just surviving, I would keep myself alive.
…
But there might come a day, when I don’t have to stay.
When the coward wins out… and takes our life away.
….
I’m scared, god I’m scared, of the future, of tomorrow, of what I might do.
Terrified when the fear stops and I give into…
I know it’s just another life I want, but I’ve been yearning for so long.
I’m starting to think that it’s better to just be gone.
-----------------------------------------------
This poem has some strong and explicit suicidal ideation, writing about my thoughts and feelings is my way of coping with these thoughts. THIS IS IN NO MEANS A POST MEANT TO INVOKE COPYCAT BEHAVIOUR OR ENDORSE SUICIDE!!
I'm posting this for people who might feel the same way and can find some solace in it. If you feel like you have no other way out, just know that there's another life for you out there. Know that there are a million roads to happiness and you only need one. Please contact the number below if you feel like you cannot do it anymore.
Suicide can be postponed, but death is irreversible, please don't forget that.
I care about you and so many others do. Please care about yourself as well, you deserve it!
Comprehensive list of suicide and emergency hotlines around the world. Includes additional hotlines and links to in-person care.
Your characterization will never be 100% accurate or considered as such by everyone. Characters are up for interpretation. Everyone perceives them differently. If you try to please everyone with your characterization, you’re going to end up dissatisfied and miserable. Plus people often hold contradictory interpretations of the same character. At the end of the day, it’s more fun to write your own unique interpretation that’s accurate *to you* rather than stress over being 100% accurate to a general audience. It’s an impossible standard. Put your own spin and flavor on your faves:)
I love fanfic authors. I read a fic once and the author said they had a friend who is a real nuclear physicist teach them all about this radioactive compound and how it reacts with different materials so that their fic could be accurate. It was smut.
thank you to every single fucking person on this god forsaken site that has ever posted your own art or writing. You really put a vulnerable, important part of yourself out in the open on the hellscape that is the internet and if that isnt an act of bravery and a labor of love I dont know what one is
You will not use AI to get ideas for your story. You will lie on the floor and have wretched visions like god intended
Your writing will always feel awkward to you, because you wrote it.
Your plot twists will always feel predictable, because you created them.
Your stories will always feel a bit boring to you, because you read them a million times.
They won't feel like that for your reader.
I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF
This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.
Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.
w-what if potato is actually lucky
The silent house
My house is full of secrets, they crawl within the walls.
We don’t see nor hear them, but they echo through the halls.
I don’t look behind the curtains, cus it’s better not to know.
And when I hear hushed whispers, I know it’s time for me to go.
I have two parents, a sister and a brother, we all live happily.
Day by day goes by, spending time with my normal family.
Although, we all have certain… particularities, I might tell you some.
But better be quiet, guests aren’t really welcome.
My sister gets sick often, although only late at night.
With a strained smile she says her body has never felt so light.
And my brother has loads of friends, they come over regularly.
Although I can't really see them, when he introduces them to me.
Dad always hugs me tight, cause he’s just being extra friendly.
But why does his charming smile look so sinister to me?
My mom is very lovely, even when she sometimes throws a thing or two.
But why she does so at my face, I dont really have a clue.
I tend to be a little messy, can’t draw a straight line to save my life.
So I try to be sneaky when I borrow moms favourite kitchen knife.
I love creating art, I can’t wait to leave my mark.
And I’m something of a night owl, I awaken in the dark.
As are my siblings, often found speeding under the starry sky.
And it's so much more fun when we might actually die.
We’re a family of thrill-seekers after all, love living on the edge.
Nothning more exciting than the danger of a ledge.
But I keep more to the background, rather remain unseen.
Overwhelmed or unfeeling, there is no in between.
And if I hide myself well enough, I might just dissapear.
I float far far away, what’s keeping me here?
The outside is our stage, we act out our roles perfectly.
By heart we know the play of the happy, loving, perfect family.
A family that doesn't speak with the words from our mouths.
But messages linger, and we all know what they’re about.
The script is fixed though, any change we will dismiss.
Of course it starts with a beginning, the introduction goes like this:
Tick tock goes the clock. Creak, creak go the stairs.
Scratch scratch go my fingers. Drip drip go my tears.
Don't drop that smile (It's the best mask we’ve got).
And I know not to show sadness (But I have to remind myself a lot).
Pain is just a fleeting feeling (Then why doesn't it go away?).
This dream (Feels like a nightmare, repeating everyday).
As the generations continue, the story remains the same.
Identical children suffer, the only difference is their name.
Now this is where our must tour end, you better hurry not to stay.
Don’t worry about the things you’ve seen or heard,
it’s just a silly play:)
???
I keep thinking that it’s fine, that it’s all just a phase
But this phase keeps returning and it won’t go away.
Is there a truth I have to face, or am I telling myself a lie.
If I’m nothing anymore, then I won’t have to explain why.
I’m a disappointment, I’m not good enough, a failure, a fraud,
Lazy, unaccomplished, why am I still about?
All these stupid simple things, don’t come easy to me.
I don’t understand why I can’t do it, so how can I make them see?
Time and time again I despise my own stupidity.
My own pulse is maddening, I can’t bear to be.
I hate seeing myself, I hate acting this way,
I hate being myself, I wish my skin would go away.
I FUCKING hate it, I HATE IT, I hate responsibility.
I hate being a burden, I hate having people count on me.
Mistake after mistake, I want to carve them into my skin.
Nothing is enough punishment, for how I am feels like a sin.
Destroy myself, DESTROY MYSELF, rip apart every piece.
Until the reality I’m feeling starts to decrease.
….
If it gets too bad, we can always stop existing.
If we can’t fix it, then why should we keep resisting?
I really think I need help, but I feel too numb to cry.
And is it really for attention, when no one knows I want to die?
…
I would never do it, even with the medicine right next to me.
I would never do it, even though it would be so easy.
I would never imagine going to bed and not waking up the next day.
I would never stop caring about what others would feel, think or say.
I would never lose control, I would always chose to stay.
As I keep repeating to myself, I can always die another day
….
I would never take the jump, I would never grab the knife.
Even if it’s just surviving, I would keep myself alive.
…
But there might come a day, when I don’t have to stay.
When the coward wins out… and takes our life away.
….
I’m scared, god I’m scared, of the future, of tomorrow, of what I might do.
Terrified when the fear stops and I give into…
I know it’s just another life I want, but I’ve been yearning for so long.
I’m starting to think that it’s better to just be gone.
-----------------------------------------------
This poem has some strong and explicit suicidal ideation, writing about my thoughts and feelings is my way of coping with these thoughts. THIS IS IN NO MEANS A POST MEANT TO INVOKE COPYCAT BEHAVIOUR OR ENDORSE SUICIDE!!
I'm posting this for people who might feel the same way and can find some solace in it. If you feel like you have no other way out, just know that there's another life for you out there. Know that there are a million roads to happiness and you only need one. Please contact the number below if you feel like you cannot do it anymore.
Suicide can be postponed, but death is irreversible, please don't forget that.
I care about you and so many others do. Please care about yourself as well, you deserve it!
Comprehensive list of suicide and emergency hotlines around the world. Includes additional hotlines and links to in-person care.
“No! No,no,no,no. NO!
Stop being so damn cute!
I swear to god A, if I love you any more I’ll die.”
“And I’m so scared that one day soon I won’t recognise the person I’ve become”
“You taught me to immerse myself in hate. You told me the only way to handle pain was to ignore it. To bury it so deep, you couldn’t feel it anymore. You made me forget who I wanted to be...
The thing is, I want to love.
And if you think that makes me weak, well... I guess I just don’t care anymore.”
*A crying”
B: “what’s wrong?”
A: “I really, really don’t wanna talk about it”
B: “What about a hug, is that okay?”
A: “No, you-”
B: “My story ends here. ... I’m sorry A, I really am”
No writer has all three:
A good relationship with reality
A socially acceptable search history
Actual motivation
Spotted