anothertiredsoul

A wandering ghost. ask me stuff if you'd like, or summon me into your blog, i don't really care.

[decision]

[echophon]

[picsthatmakeyougohmm]

hmmm

[sulfur]

[ponchopeligroso]

every single person you know has something in their life and past that is probably worth collapsing to the ground in an uncontrollably sobbing heap over, so be nice to each other and tell good jokes

[unbotheredmuse]

[catcrumb]

[rinmari]

[fabled-lamb]

fuck these “i need to be fucked” posts. I need to be motherfucking kissed. throw me against a wall and kiss me like i’m the love of your goddamn life and you didn’t think you’d ever find me. 

[nvpengyou]

when cats hold each other >>>>>>>

[nvpengyou]

like this

[twitblr]

Some people just want you to feel bad about yourself to make em think they’re better than they’re actually are. (x)

[ufohoaxes]

[kaanbubelli-deactivated20221218]

[aqua-regia009]

Sebastian Pether (1790-1844)

[7l7l7l7l7l7l7l7]

sometimes you have to stay busy so you don’t have time to feel.

[ritikajyala]

I lost my best friend 3 years ago- not lost as in dead but lost as in we only text each other on our birthdays now. Movies and books don't tell you that a friendship dying is like the sinking of a ship, you try to get higher and higher and hold onto the rails and unanswered texts, the captain tries to steer it to safety and salvage pieces of two broken hearts until you're left with memories of what once was. We were friends for a decade and knew each other's diaries by heart, I still remember her phone number and the way she took her coffee. Seeing her in streets is like breathing in a scent you forgot you knew but it immediately takes you back to a summer in '07.

Movies and books also don't tell you that friendships don't just end after one fight or incident, it's like the rusting of a bridge, the slow decay of flesh and bones and secrets. It took weeks, months- until one day I woke up and I realized I hadn't thought of her in a while. And I wrote a poem that day and I titled it 'The dying of a best friend' and I put all my love for her in a tiny box with my half of the matching pendant of a dolphin we had and stored them in a corner of my heart under the heading Grief. Where else can one hide unspent love?

It's been 3 years since I lost my best friend, lost as in I still carry our secrets in a tiny box but we only text each other on our birthdays.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

[daddyfuckedme]