Losing All Hope

It's the loneliest feeling in the world- To find yourself standing up when everyone else is sitting down. To have everybody look at you and say "What's the matter with her?" I know what it feels like. Walking down an empty street, listening to the sound of your own footsteps. Shutters closed, blinds drawn, doors locked against you.And you aren't sure whether you're walking toward something, or if you're just walking away. I know what it feels like. That's what I feel all day, everyday of my life I'M THE ODD ONE OUT

[britttaperryhasmoved-deactivate]

[mylife-without-love]

GUYS! YOU EONT UNDERSTAND! ITS DECEMBER 10th ANS THIS HAS BEEN IN MY QUEUE SINCE FEBRUARY!!!!!!

[too-jung-for-you]

The photo on the left is Chief Big Foot. He and an estimated 300 Native Americans were massacred at Wounded Knee in 1890 by the United States Army. Most of them were women and children that died face first in the freezing snow, shot in the back as they tried to run. This incident is a drop in the bucket as compared to the literal genocide that took place here until the early 1900’s and the cultural genocide that some argue still takes place today. Of the millions upon millions that were executed, NONE were dressed as a “Slutty Indian” or the ill representation of “Pocahontas.” These people were AND ARE more than a costume or a fake headdress. You may find this petty or sensitive, perhaps we should “grow up” or “focus on other real issues.” I wish we could. How can a people be taken seriously about the “real issues” if we are still a slutty costume at a Halloween party, a crude drawing on a baseball jersey, or a derogatory mascot on a football helmet. If you wouldn’t paint your face black and dress as a slutty African American woman, why on earth would you do that to a Native American and think it isn’t racist, that it’s “in good fun.” I love Halloween as much as the next person, probably more since it is the day after my birthday, but we can all have fun without being an ignorant bigot. I implore you to respect our culture, to respect our traditions, and to respect our ancestors. I BEG YOU TO RESPECT US!

[vintageshi-deactivated20190418]

I’ve never heard it put so well before.

THIS!

[d4tive]

[tommypickles]

why the fuck am i crying

literally me during any situation that is slightly emotional (via tommypickles)

[secret-paranoia]

[mylife-without-love]

FLORALL:

NIALLMYLOVER:

SEXTOLOGY:

FETCH-KITTENS:

PALEFLEUR:

ACIDICAL:

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CLICK HERE AND CLICK ‘FOLLOW’

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THANKS SO MUCH <3 <3

31 FOLLOWERS!! I LOVE YOU BRO THANK YOU :3

[boys-and-suicide-deactivated201]

Me

[boys-and-suicide-deactivated201]

If you know me you know I love her because of things like this.

[boys-and-suicide-deactivated201]

Was thinking about this in class today. Almost broke down because of how well it reflects my life.

[adamparrisch-moved]

I’m sick of people wrongly defining bisexuality. It’s not ‘attraction to both men and women’ it’s about being attracted to ‘bi’ things like bicycles, binoculars, bilinguals and binary coding smh

[thetomska]

So glad someone finally cleared this up.

[portmandia]

[therelatableimages]

[my-teen-quote]

[whitepaperquotes]

Tell me – how is it that you’re always around even when you’re not? How is it that my hands are still shaking and yours are on another girl’s body?

How is it that I can see you in the sky? Was it in the soft of your lips? The pink curvature of your mouth that swallowed me whole? Fuck, til this day I swear I still feel the traces of your lips smoothing my collarbones.

Tell me you miss me. Tell me you miss my smile – the smile that made your heart leap out of your chest and explode into a myriad of butterflies. Tell me I’m not the only one with mountain shaped bruises on my heart. Tell me I’m not the only one shuffling through crowds hoping to see your face at the end of the line like you always have been.

Because god damnit, I’ve been sitting on this worn down couch and replaying the memories of us here – the spot where the brilliance of the illuminating night sky shone through the cascading windows and where your fragile fingers laced mine and where you whispered in my ear and where you lips grazed mine for the very first time. I swear to god I felt like ecstasy was pumping through my veins that night, like every atom of my being was set ablaze from nerve cell to nerve cell.

It’s always been you, hasn’t it?

Right now it’s two thirty in the morning and I’m a little drunk, but I’m still thinking of you. Baby, won’t you tell me that you miss me, too?

- Jennifer P., Thirty-six letters and counting

the-quiet-screams.tumblr.com

[tasteoftheuniverse]

[floambones]

every year after you turn 17 you get further away from being the age of the dancing queen and that’s my least favorite thing about growing up

[sex-satanic]

[a-nesthetize]

[synapsisquimica]

tbh