Part II

I was notafashionbl0g AndreaART BLOG: lerredINSTAGRAM: lurredCONTACT: [email protected]

[notafashionbl0g]

I moved my high fashion content to twitter, my user is @ pradaventi. Anyway here’s Maison Margiela FW 1995 Ready To Wear

[escapadesplaylist]

Visit Original Link

[skinfilledthoughts]

Tonight I listened to a voicemail you left me three months ago. In it, you told me to go fuck myself. I still remember that night. I still remember those words rolling off your tongue so gracefully. I remember wondering how someone so beautiful could be so cruel. Two months ago I called you at three A.M. I expected you to ignore it, or to send me to voicemail; those were two of the things you were best at. You answered and I felt my heart begin to race; you probably thought it was because I missed you, but truthfully it was because I didn’t expect you to answer, and because I really had to pee. I asked you how you were and you sat there quietly and confused. It was like you forgot that I existed and that I was once a part of your life. You told me “fine” and I smiled. That was the last conversation we had. I made sure to let go of you, and every negative word that was said, in a peaceful way. Fast forward two months, and I still wonder how you are. I still wonder how your dog is and if you’ve seen any good movies lately. If you ever heard me say this, you’d probably blush like you used to whenever I said something sweet. You’d probably think I think these things because I still love you, that I still want you. But that is not the case. You see, six months ago I was jumping through hoops to please you. To make sure that you were happy before myself. To make sure that I was the one causing your happiness. But it is not six months ago. It is now. And now I simply remember you as a person I gave my soul to. A person I told secrets to at 4am and fucked to feel a sense of closeness. A person I loved, yes. But it is not six months ago. It is now, and now I miss you. I miss the way you called randomly just to ask how my day was. I miss the way you seemed to care, even if you didn’t. I miss the friendship and the secrets and the stories. And maybe one day things will be different. Maybe you’ll call me on a Tuesday afternoon and ask how my day was. These are the things I think about before my eyes slowly close and I am finally rewarded with sleep. But for right now? Go fuck yourself.

This hurt.  (via mistyspell)

[the-fault-in-our-scars]

My mother warned me about cigarettes that could cause cancer But she never told me that self-hatred can grow faster than any tumour ever could My father warned me that I should never stop thinking But he never told me that overthinking would kill my happiness My sister warned me about other people who might make hurtful comments about me But she never told me that instead of hearing someone else’s voice, I’d hear my own My brother warned me about drugs in baggies sold on the street, But he never told me about the ones that people put in your glass when you’re not looking My grandmother warned me about the devil with his tail and red horns But she never told me about his angelic smile and dark, ocean blue eyes My grandfather warned me about booze that could kill But he never told me that if you drink enough alcohol, it tastes like love My cousin warned me that I should love my virginity to a guy I love But she never told me he should love me, too My aunt warned me that if I kept eating that much, I might vomit But she never told me that even without eating anything, you can hang over the toilet and puke My baby sitter warned me that a boy could break my heart But she never told me that if I made him mad, he’d also break my arm and nose My teacher warned me about dangerous men with knives that could cut my throat But she never told me that I didn’t need these men to cut my skin They all warned me that I shouldn’t do dangerous things that could kill me But I never had the chance to ask them if slitting both of my wrists vertically And taking thirty-eight aspirins, was one of these dangerous things

d.a.n. (the-fault-in-our-scars)

Holy shit this is powerful

(via burritostampede)

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

She thought she was independent and strong, but she got one small taste of love and she was hungrier than anyone.

Ann Brashares (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[extrasad]

Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because 

I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside

of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.

The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told

me you didn’t love me anymore and lava flooded

my body and hardened till I stopped sleeping.

I had stars in my eyes but I burned them

all out with the cigarettes I was smoking

to get you the fuck out of my throat. The

flowers growing at the bottoms of my

stomach are dead. Apparently you  

can’t water flowers with vodka.

I had the sky in my veins but it’s

been pretty fucking stormy since I

ripped them open. I had planets 

on the tip of my tongue but

the debris from the shattered 

remains of “us” have been

crashing into them. I was

everything. And then I met

you and we were everything.

Now you’re fucking some

blonde girl who gets

high all the time and

I’m a fucking

mess.

[vegan-yums]

Zucchini Corn Cakes {Vegan}

[extrasad]

Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because 

I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside

of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.

The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told

me you didn’t love me anymore and lava flooded

my body and hardened till I stopped sleeping.

I had stars in my eyes but I burned them

all out with the cigarettes I was smoking

to get you the fuck out of my throat. The

flowers growing at the bottoms of my

stomach are dead. Apparently you  

can’t water flowers with vodka.

I had the sky in my veins but it’s

been pretty fucking stormy since I

ripped them open. I had planets 

on the tip of my tongue but

the debris from the shattered 

remains of “us” have been

crashing into them. I was

everything. And then I met

you and we were everything.

Now you’re fucking some

blonde girl who gets

high all the time and

I’m a fucking

mess.

[kjpoems]

I’m sorry that I prefer long sleeves. I’m sorry that its 3 am and I’m up writing poetry. And I’m sorry that my eyes don’t shine anymore.

(85/365) by (KJ)

[sleepstudies-blog]

“She came from a background where… nothing was ever good enough. And that was something that weighed heavy on her.”

Her (2013)

[lerred]

I’m tired of people using me as a last resource

[notafashionbl0g]

Rise (by Andrea Eyssautier)

[vlada-sasha-natasha]

Galliano Fall 2009

[sfilate]

Willow Hand at Louis Vuitton Resort 2016

[princessrhcenyra]

“Audacieuse” Anna Ewers by Mert & Marcus for Vogue Paris August 2014

[classicmodels]

Alexandra Elizabeth Ljadov By Ward Ivan Rafik For Wsj June 2015

[vlada-sasha-natasha]

Alexander Wang Fall 13