The blanket gets heavier every day
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Andulka

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Misplaced Lens Cap

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@theartofmadeline
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JBB: An Artblog!
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ojovivo
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Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă

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@roach-clips-and-acid-trips
The blanket gets heavier every day
Me, in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Hey, those days are long gone
Rumble Fish (1983)
meirl
Me irl
if you come around
created by @dangernoodle488
~Wish I had gone to GreyDay, but hereâs a gem from the global epidemic tour~
Stolen
The Jigsaw
Hereâs a summarization of Daniel Slossâs message in his Netflix special âJigsaw,â which everyone struggling with relationships should see.
Imagine all of our lives are like our own individual jigsaw puzzles. As weâre going through life, weâre just slowly piecing it together, bit by bit, based on experiences and lessons that weâve learned, until we get the best picture, but the thing is everyone has also lost the box for their jigsaw. So none of us know what the image weâre trying to make is, weâre just confidently fucking guessing. So the best way to do a jigsaw, when you donât have the image to work off, is to start from the outside, the sides and the four corners.
Family. Friends. Hobbies/interests. Job.
Now obviously, as you go through life, some of these bits are subject to change, but once youâve got the stuff on the outside, whatâs the main bit of the image? What we are all working towards? Thatâs the partner piece. This perfect person who youâve never met before comes out of nowhere, fits your life perfectly, completes you and makes you whole for the first time in your life.
This âjigsawâ mentality is known to us all as an unspoken rule of life. The problem is what this manifests as is this-
If you are not with someone,
you are broken.
If you are not with someone,
you are incomplete.
If you are not with someone,
you are not whole.
Thatâs something we as a society have made every single child in the past 40 years feel. Every Disney princess has a prince, every prince has a princess. Everyone needs someone right?
Yeah.
Every relationship on the outside is perfect, because none of us are willing to admit that none of us know what the fuck weâre doing, and when you raise children in that world, where everything points towards love and everythingâs perfect on the outside for 18 fucking years, when we become an adult, weâre so terrified. Weâre trying so hard that some of us will take the wrong person, the wrong jigsaw piece, and just fucking jam them into our jigsaws anyway, denying that they clearly donât fit. Iâm gonna force this fucking person into our lives because weâd much rather have something than nothing. Then five years later, youâre stood looking at a jigsaw you donât recognize.
Maybe you do meet the perfect person. Maybe you meet them, you go out. They make you laugh. You make them laugh. Theyâve got a stupid laugh, but you fucking love it. They like what you like. They like your idiosyncrasies. Itâs great. Itâs perfect. Oh, my God, theyâve completed you.
For three months.
Every relationship is perfect for three months. And hereâs why. âCause after three months, thatâs when you realize that nobody else is a jigsaw piece. Everyone else on this planet is as deep and as complex an individual as you are, which means they too have spent the last 20 or so years of their life working on their own jigsaw puzzle, in the same way that youâve been working on yours. You canât suddenly expect them to give up everything theyâve come to achieve to suddenly fit into yours in the same way that youâd be pissed off if they asked you to sacrifice everything youâve done, suddenly come fit into theirs, but now, because you love each other, you now have to make a jigsaw together.
We all know how fucking annoying that is.
But you do it âcause youâre in love, and maybe for the first couple years itâs great. Itâs like, âOh, my God, you love this bit of me. I love this bit of you,â but time does not equal success. You can spend five or more years with someone, and only then, after all the fun you had, be looking at the jigsaw and realize youâre both working towards very different images. Only then realize that you want different things. And in that moment, you have very, very difficult questions to ask yourself.
1. Do I admit the last five years of my life have been a waste?
2. Do I waste the rest of my life?
55% of marriages end in divorce. 99.0% of relationships that started before they are 30 end. If those were the stats for surgery, none of us would fucking risk it, but because itâs love and weâre stupid, we just lie on the operating table like, âMaybe this time I wonât die inside.â Our generation has become so obsessed with starting the rest of our lives that weâre willing to give up the one weâre currently living.
We have romanticized the idea of romance, and it is cancerous.