Small Town Big Remarks

Student of the universe, in love with words and moments. I adore plane tickets and cupcake pants. I romanticize horrible things sometimes but I'm a happy person~

[smalltownbigremarks]

[psy-faerie]

[fatgirlopinions]

Absolutely me

[makebelievewithme]

i used to be just like this but once i got into a serious relationship, i didnt wanna show my body off for just anybody. it wasnt that he wouldnt let me its that i respected him enough to not dress a certain way. and now that im entering a marriage with him, i certainly wouldnt wear anything that would give anyone any idea that i am less than married. i guess its a maturity thing💁🏼

[meloetta]

[1beautybychoice]

[johnny-3-tears]

This is the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life

[smalltownbigremarks]

& he said to me, "I've been trying to convince myself that the part of myself I'm missing isn't you. I'm not very convinced."

[hurtingpearlfarewell-deactivate]

I am a guy in my 20s. I've been seeing a girl for about 3 months. I just found out that she has had sex with dozens more people than I have. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with that. What should I do?

[sogothimdead-deactivated2020060]

[actuallycrying-deactivated20190]

I can’t believe my nipples are illegal

[smalltownbigremarks]

Starving Artist

Acid settles in my stomach while dust collects on my heart. It’s been awhile since I’ve let either of them do the jobs they were designed for.

There are still some days when I wake up, look in the mirror, and immediately resign back to bed. They decided to call it social anxiety, but the only things I’m truly afraid of are the thighs reflected back at me.

However, most of my days are wasted pretending as if I haven’t already spent all of my energy getting myself out of bed – avoiding dinner dates as well as gazes in which might see through my mask, I’m impersonating a girl who’s able to form healthy habits and functional relationships with the world around her. Convincing the ones who love me that I can love me too.

Contrarily, my nights are never spent alone. I can normally be found holding onto porcelain for dear life, my head hovering above the now nonconsensual company of a toilet as frigid as my flesh. My nagging stomach, nauseous over literally nothing, continues to involuntarily convulse into waves of sadistic ecstasy, taking pleasure in its attempts to rid me of myself.

After finding nothing, once again, my mutiny-charged body finally releases me back into the custody of my memory foam mattress, whom I truly wish remembered less, with my heated blanket and self-loathing to keep me warm.

Finally, I chase down a few pills with a glass of water – one to conserve what sanity I have left and two to intimidate my brain into sleeping.

I wake up in a haze, head rush so disorientating that I can hardly make my way to the scale, which reads another pound lighter.

My therapist says to stop taking everything so literally – that I don’t need to be starving to be an artist.

Doesn’t she understand that I never intended to be either?

[plantskiddo]

[smalltownbigremarks]

I need a muse, not a boyfriend.

[smalltownbigremarks]

my red lipstick faded from his cheek as my love faded to indifference

[smalltownbigremarks]

Him 5

I think I really fucked his heart up.

[smalltownbigremarks]

Him 4

The most terrifying part, is how easily I could fit my entire life into a suitcase and leave him, hand on his heart, left atrium severed, right ventricle bleeding out, waiting for me to turn around, the first aid kit with a one-way ticket.

[smalltownbigremarks]

The world sees you as your most put-together self.

But the night I saw you through foreign lights,

I mean, really saw you, I wasn’t feeling the whiskey – only you. Your usually deliberately placed hair was scattered across your face and your eyes were wild with curiosity and something I couldn’t quite place.

Somewhere between the whispered words and screaming silence,

I gave up my strict need for control and I felt safer than ever with my arms pinned to the bed.

I envisioned my fingerprints.

I envisioned them all over you.

but then I pictured everything I’d eaten throughout the day.

I pictured it all over me.

I’ve never wanted any kind of commitment,

not even the kind that lasted a night,

but twenty-four hours later,

somewhere between whispered words and screaming silence,

you were the first I said the word “stay” to.

With the three hundred preconceived reasons why you wouldn’t in my head,

I never questioned why you were the first who didn’t.

[mycorrhizall]

I turned my frustration with myself into art.

[unfuckyourhabitat]

I feel like this is really important for people to see. I’ve been saying depression and mess go hand-in-hand for years, but so many people feel like they’re alone in it. You’re not.

[smalltownbigremarks]

Him 3

he loves me the way that I love flowers: completely and selfishly.

I take them home and put them on display –

proud to have found something so bright, so beautiful,

so alive

but as my flowers begin to wilt, i fall into a depression.

If I never touched them, they wouldn’t have withered away between my fingers,

and I begin to understand,

that they were never truly “mine.”