Sometimes at night. I just realize how alone I am. And I get a vast feeling of emptiness within me. I don't understand why if an hour ago everything felt great, now I feel worried and sad and depressed. I just want to cry.

Janaina Medeiros
ojovivo
wallacepolsom
Mike Driver

roma★
Keni
RMH
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

No title available
Jules of Nature

PR's Tumblrdome
$LAYYYTER

pixel skylines
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Today's Document
occasionally subtle
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Sade Olutola
Show & Tell
d e v o n

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Argentina

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Panama

seen from Algeria
seen from France

seen from Bangladesh

seen from Australia

seen from Paraguay
seen from United States

seen from Russia

seen from Brazil
seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
@masumoct012three
Sometimes at night. I just realize how alone I am. And I get a vast feeling of emptiness within me. I don't understand why if an hour ago everything felt great, now I feel worried and sad and depressed. I just want to cry.
Nightfall
And then when the night falls is when I feel the worst.
The time between going to bed and going to sleep is the worst part of the day.
Emotionless...
You are at that point in life where everything appears pointless and absolutely senseless. You have detached yourself from everyone you were ever close to, because faking excitement and happiness is exhausting. You isolate yourself because it has become hard to fake your laughter. Nobody needs to know that you have lost all emotion and empathy; what once made you you, your ability to feel empathy for others, is lost. Now everything you once looked forward to seems stupid and unrealistic. The confidence that made you strive for more is long gone and all that is left is the doubt, the doubt that you will ever achieve anything in life, the doubt that anything truly matters, the doubt that anyone will ever accept you for who you are. You realize that the truth is the person you are is the type of person nobody wants around. You have tried to get out of this hole, but the times you tried to speak to someone you were ridiculed and ignored. How can anyone ever care about you, what is there to care for or love about you? Nothing, really. You want someone to come around and help you and understand that you just want to be loved, you want to find someone who will see the good in you and help you see it. But all you have found is rejection when you tried to get involved in anything emotional; what good are emotions if in the end everyone just leaves. You give them a great chunk of your life, and they just leave. You missed the times when you would laugh till your stomach would hurt, you miss crying over silly stuff, the joy of daydreaming is now nonexistent. What is the point of being alive, what is the purpose of it all? To be alive and then die, when inside you, you had being dead for longer than anyone could imagine. Now, at this point in your life there's no one to talk to about anything. There's not much in your life worth mentioning, life has become an overwhelming routine. And plus, why mention anything at all? You understand that there are worse things people have to go through, you should be happy.... but you're most certainly not. On the bright side, though, there's no sadness, or joy, or disappointment. You are a living zombie.
R.I.P to the driver who died with Paul Walker that no one cares about because he wasn’t famous
Salvador Dali and Coco Chanel
No te enamores de una persona curiosa. Querrá saber quién eres, de dónde vienes, cómo es tu familia. Mirará todas tus fotografías y leerá todos tus poemas. Vendrá a cenar y hablar con tu madre acerca de cómo su curiosidad le ha enseñado cosas muy útiles. Te pedirá que explotes cuando estás enojado y que llores cuando estás herido.Te preguntará qué significa esa ceja levantada. Querrá saber tu comida favorita, tu color favorito, tu persona favorita. Te preguntará por qué. Va a comprar esa que cámara te gustó, prestará atención a esa banda que amas en caso de que haya un show cerca, te llevará ese suéter al que le sonreíste una vez. Aprenderá a cocinar tus comidas favoritas. Los curiosos no se conforman con el exterior, desean el interior. Ellos quieren lo que te hace pesado, lo que te hace sentir incómodo, lo que te hace gritar de alegría , ira, y de angustia. Su piel se convertirá en páginas en las que aprenderás a derramar tu ser. No te enamores de una persona curiosa. No dejará un suspiro sin explicación. Querrá saber qué hizo exactamente, qué hizo para que la amaras. Año, mes, día, semana “¿A qué hora fue? ¿Qué dije? ¿Qué hice? ¿Cómo te sentiste? “ No te enamores de una persona curiosa, porque he estado allí. Desabrochará tu camisa y leerá cada cicatriz, cada marca, cada curva. Explorará cada una de tus extremidades, cada órgano, cada pensamiento, cada ser. Después caminará de regreso a casa y comerá su cena y nunca regresará tus llamadas. Tú nunca serás la expedición para toda la vida. Tu corazón será un misterio pero no por mucho tiempo. No hay dolor como amar a un curioso que persigue cada estrella caída y nunca la atrapa. Que viene y ve y conquista y se va. Yo me enamoré de una persona curiosa, quizás un día toma el tren de regreso a casa y sea lo suficiente curioso para leer un último mensaje de mi parte tallada en un asiento. “Hay una curiosidad en ti que te hará mover montañas algún día sin ningún esfuerzo como me has movido por años”.
Don’t Fall In Love With The Curious One {Traducción}