âDonât fall so madly in love with the night that you lose your way!â
â Anne Rice (Interview with the Vampire)

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Sade Olutola

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Three Goblin Art
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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YOU ARE THE REASON

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@no-presure
âDonât fall so madly in love with the night that you lose your way!â
â Anne Rice (Interview with the Vampire)
âYou drink like youâve got no one to go home to, but I was always there you just never realisedâ
â
maybe life isnât for everyone. maybe iâm one of the unlucky ones. you know, like i was dealt a bad hand of cards, barely getting through life. but itâs okay. I havenât had hope for awhile anyways.
what my poor therapist has to hear
âSomeone once asked me what depression feels like. I said âlike a slower way of being deadâ and I know it doesnât make any sense but thatâs just the way it is. laying in bed, unable to move even though there is nothing physically wrong with you doesnât make much sense either. A family member once asked me why at my age I didnât have a job. I said âiâm sickâ and they said 'being sad isnât the same as being sickâ and, yeah, theyâre right. being sad ISNâT the same as being sick. i canât call in sad to work, or to school, or to anywhere else for that matter without being accused of throwing a self-pity party to which the only attendees are me and my sadness which is constantly being invalidated by those who donât understand it, including me, because I donât understand my sadness either. itâs difficult to admit this but the ugly truth is i have been sad for so long that I no longer remember what itâs like not be. kind of like when you have a cold and canât breathe through your nose but instead of not being able to breathe through your nose, you canât breathe AT ALL and all you can do is wait to suffocate while the people around you ask you whatâs wrong but you canât tell them because it wouldnât make any sense. It never makes any sense.â
â
Sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind.
âYou are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.â
â Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena
âThatâs the thing, someone can fuck you over and fuck you over and fuck you over⊠but at the end of the day your twisted heart still wants themâ
- Iâve fallen and I canât get back up
âYou donât miss me, and someday I have to stop hoping for you to.â
â A.M.// (via tullipsink)
âShe moved on. I never understand how she did, or how she could bring herself to, but she did. She was living her life to the fullest day by day with that amazing smile I fell for. And as I sit sipping on this glass and feeling myself slip into a dazed and foggy state of drunkenness, I seem to miss her more and more.â
â An excerpt from a book Iâll never write. (#62)
âHaving to tell myself âIâm okay, Iâm okay, Iâm okay, Iâm gonna be okay.â wasnât beautiful or poetic. Sitting on my bathroom floor, crying begging someone to help me even though no one could hear me wasnât beautiful. It wasnât something worth going through. The pain wasnât worth it, it was fucking painful. It was fucking painful to wake up the next morning when all I wanted to do was die and thatâs the fucking truth. The truth isnât beautiful or poetic. Itâs not a John Green book or a Notebook love story, it was real. The pain and the tears and the hurting was real. The aching was real and it was more than painful but painful is the only word to use because what I felt was something that didnât have a definition. So donât tell me that this pain will be worth it some day or that I should turn my hurt into something beautiful because you donât have to go through something painful to learn something. I donât have to force my pain to be beautiful because it wasnât.â
â Deeply Feeling SeriesÂ
But Itâs not going to happenâŠ
âYou never apologised to me for hurting me, but I apologised to you 12 times for being angry about it.â
â