#free text

[soupza]

i hate ap i hate college board i hate tests [if u do too follow me on tumblr @soupza]

new uquiz xoxo take it and rb with what u got!!

[s02ep10]

Rate My Unfortunate Male Crushes

Hi! I made a free text quiz where you can judge my taste in men. Go ahead.

[littlegreen1902]

Haru: glares*

Makoto: I know

Haru: glares harder*

Makoto: yeah that's what I was thinking

Haru: glares even harder*

Makoto: okay okay I get it. So we're good? Yeah? Cool.

Everyone else: ????

[lacquerofthemoon]

My words don't dwell on the single surfaces of sticky notes of advice you put in your bathroom mirror.

My poems are meant to sit with you at 12am as you sob in the bathtub about him.

My prose are meant to jab at your throat when you try to swallow all the previous trauma being such a nice person has brought to you.

My healing is supposed to connect the dots you have chosen to lay amongst the continents in hopes that you bring it all together and form a new world for yourself.

My heart has never been shallow; neither will my words be.

[taiyounoao]

what it’s mine to share? besides the scars on my body, a bitter taste in my mouth, and the aching of my bones (feeling one hundred years old)?

probably nothing that’s worth to be mentioned

probably nothing that can make me step away from the wall that i am constantly leaning against, probably nothing that would help me find the voice inside of my throat, to save me from the caged silence i threw myself in (years and years ago)

i am not stupid enough, maybe stupid isn’t the word, but you know

i am not naive enough to believe: “darling, my love will save you”

but i am sad enough to wish to listen: “darling, my love won’t save you, but it’s okay to fall” (r.)

[lacquerofthemoon]

We sat, quietly amongst the trees as the faint whispers of the wind danced between us. She was across from me, her delicate mahogany skin reflecting its smooth exterior under the night sky. She was quiet, but the trembling of her lips against mine spoke volumes and in its quake I felt our spirits combine and murmur everlasting relief that we were one. I looked into the darkness, my mind wandering from her to the Eastern Lands as I tried to figure out how to capture her beauty in eyes down to the bottom of her feet. And there it was, peeking from the sheathe of clouds, guiding the stars in their particular patterns as a beacon of mystery but a muse of wonder. Of beauty. Of self. The moon; her name was The Moon. And I have fallen in love with her.

a. h. eun - Her name was The Moon

[tagitables]

Unfortunately (if not -- fortunately), the philosophical process of doing philosophy is one that is extremely lonesome to even begin with.