What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.
Sylvia Plath (via wordsnquotes)

Love Begins
RMH
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Mike Driver
YOU ARE THE REASON

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Keni
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Not today Justin
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occasionally subtle

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@peoniesandpassion
What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.
Sylvia Plath (via wordsnquotes)
me: man i love people maybe i'm not as introverted as i thought, i can be around people forever
me exactly one hour later: no
VERY IMPORTANT
he was talking about when you’re a little kid but i relate to this as a college student
Zürich, Switzerland (by Davide Seddio)
Introvert Problems
Wanting to be invited but not wanting to go anywhere.
Being lonely at home but not wanting anyone in your space unless you really like them.
And even if you do really like them, you want them to go home soon.
THIS IS SO FUCKING ACCURATE IT HURTS OH MY GOD
Anxiety
I wish people took the time to truly learn what anxiety is/what it’s like.
It’s not just being a jittery person or worrying all the time.
It varies person to person.
In fact, anyone who didn’t know me would probably be surprised to learn that I suffer from GAD.
Yes, suffer. Because it is a disease. It’s not a voluntary thing.
I don’t just “worry too much.” I can’t just “calm down.”
Anxiety, at least for me, is like those seagulls in Finding Nemo who say “mine” on repeat. But, instead of saying “mine,” they say all of the things you should be doing/should have accomplished/are worrying about/did wrong/etc.
Anxiety is remembering something you said/did from 5 years ago that literally no one else remembers and thinking about how much people must hate you for it.
Anxiety is waking up way before your alarm and not being able to go back to sleep because all of the gears in your brain start turning and refuse to shut back off, even if you had just finally gotten them to shut off a few hours ago.
Anxiety is figuring out every possible outcome to a given scenario and having to mentally prepare yourself for each of them so that you’re not surprised when they actually happen to you.
And then feeling like an idiot for “overthinking” something as small as meeting up with friends, because you’ve overplanned for the worst.
Anxiety is constantly thinking you’re not good/smart/whatever enough for anything.
Anxiety is assuming that everyone hates you for making a tiny mistake.
It may not even be a mistake. It may just be a request that may inconvenience them.
You assume they hate you.
Anxiety is never feeling good about yourself because you assume everyone is judging you poorly.
And all of this is going on in your head. But you have to suck it all up and push it down and pretend everything is fine.
Anxiety is having to suddenly leave a room or scenario because you feel a wave of panic going on, and you need to go deal with that.
And, of course, everyone is judging you for that.
Anxiety is assuming that people reading this will think you’re a weak person/trying to play the victim, which is why you rarely bring up your anxiety in the first place.
Anxiety is assuming people are paying attention to your every move when you’re the only one thinking about it.
Anxiety is wanting to talk to someone about a given subject, particularly when they involved your emotions, but your body physically won’t let you because it decides to shut down instead.
So you have to write out how you’re feeling like you’re an 8th grader or something, and you silently judge yourself as you do it and assume everyone around you is also judging you and wondering why you can’t just “spit it out.”
You can’t. Your throat starts closing in and you physically can’t push the words out of your body.
Anxiety is knowing all of this about yourself and being able to only do so much about it.
Anxiety is the worst, and no one takes it seriously.
Perfection
Btw, this is from David Levithan’s The Lover’s Dictionary
#mission accomplished
I like that library books have secret lives. All those hands that have held them. All those eyes that have read them.
Neela Vaswani (via writersrelief)
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