#sad steph

[astro-bea]

Detective Comics (2016) #940

[thomats]

Quick reminder: if you always pick your fave chocolate off the big bag of mixed chocs, you’ll eventually end up with all the ones you didn’t like

[tulowitzki]

getting drunk on a sunday bad idea but uhhhh

[jackbrakkow]

I'm very sad rn

Please reblog this post with your favourite picture of a platypus

[radiantordam]

-

[ramblingsofamadchicana]

Nights like these are unbearably lonely.

 As I sit in my small, stifling room in silence in the dead of night when all my family members are all in their own rooms fast asleep, I am painfully aware of how very alone I am. As time passes, I grow older and gain arbitrary wisdom, the reality of my situation becomes ever clearer. I’m alone, alone, alone. At times throughout the day I am physically surrounded by others, but their presence is but a shadow to me, as I am nothing of substance to them. I am in physical proximity with others but emotionally, I am as distant as the stars in the wide, unforgiving night sky. They don’t know me, nor do they want to. I am not loved. Loved…“who gives a damn about love? Love is for fools; lucky, lucky fools” I often think ruefully to myself when this thought passes through my buzzing mind. But for all my cynicism, all my bitterness, I know that I am simply blinding myself to the reality of the human condition which I cannot escape. I am deeply affected by this distance and this detachment that has come to define my existence.

 No matter how far we retract ourselves from the world around us and from others in a desperate attempt to escape the pain which previously created our worlds, we cannot cut off that sentimental need for emotion. For the loving touch of another human, to be able to sit with someone likeminded and share a sort of understanding of thoughts and of feelings. Not necessarily romance, but just a connection. It is one of the most difficult things to float through life unattached to any other human beings. I know, I know. It is so much easier to stay hard and cold, and to simply walk through life with your eyes to the ground. Beauty be damned, living be damned, this is all just sentimental bullshit. For those like you and I, it is all about survival. Getting up another day and mustering the courage to face the ticking hands of the clock, and to be able to just survive the day is sometimes a feat which requires all of our focus. Despite all of my efforts, I cannot quell the aching sense of something missing. Substance, I am missing substance. I am missing a reason for it all. I am missing a centralized joy which illuminates the darkest corners of my life. I have long tried to convince myself that it was unobtainable, I should not bother myself with such follies, for such a thing doesn’t even exist in this place. But all my plodding reason, all the hard learned understandings of the way of things that I have garnered during these long months of abject solitude does nothing to dull the ache. It presses incessantly against my mind, my heart, my red and burning wrists demanding to be felt and acknowledged as though it were something living, breathing entity.

 But how am I to satisfy the ache that I no longer have any knowledge of? It is foreign to me. Like the God whom i no longer have faith in, it cannot be understood in human terms, and when Moses tried to look upon the true face of this celestial lord, he was changed. It is abstract and beautiful, but at this point in my life, unobtainable. I cannot even fathom it. It slips through my scarred fingers, dancing about and fleeing before I have the chance to internalize it.

[ramblingsofamadchicana]

I really have been doing so well these past weeks. I’ve grown, changed, and reached the finishing point of my nearly half year long struggle. I thought i had broken free of the chains that held my heart and my conscience captive. I had laughed in empty triumph, facing the sunlight without fear and with an elusive sense of understanding for why things fall into place the way they do. I smiled, thinking to myself with the almost maniacal joy of someone who has escaped the truest forms of darkness, that i would never fall prey again to my own powerful desire to destroy myself. 

But it’s never that easy, is it? With every triumph, an inevitable fall waits for you to come its way. Progress is lost, your inner voice screams ever louder, making up for the time you had violently silenced it. The ache for what is as distant and unobtainable as the hazy moon rising outside your window returns with a dull, pounding intensity which drives you to near madness. 

It is never that easy. But i’m not that weak. I have made it through countless nights where i longed for the end, nights worse than this. Nights where i could not even see or think straight. Starless nights where i lost my grasp on reality, almost entirely. A point where hatred, fear, and melancholy danced and joined together to form a monsterous conglomerate of emotion. This monstrosity was not easily defeated, but it was done. Bruised and beaten, i won. I’ll win again.

[ramblingsofamadchicana]

So FIDLAR is playing a free show at Amoeba in Hollywood tomorrow and are having a record release kinda thingy on friday in DTLA AND I AM MISSING BOTH BC IM CLOSING THE NEXT TWO DAYS AT WORK :( So sad. oh well, at least i’ll get to see them at Beach Goth and mayhaps their show on october 30th if i find someone to go with me lmao