Welcome to my Mind

I'm deafened by the silence Is it something that I've done I know that there are millions I can't be the only one who's so disconnected It's so different in my head Can anybody tell me why

[shortangrybisexual]

Listen I’m bi as Heck and as much as I love girls, I also love boys? Boys are amazing and pure and liking boys is a wonderful feeling? I never see a lot of posts talking about cute boys so

Some Boy Aesthetics™ I’m in love with include:

Their tired grins? Have you seen a cute boy grin when he’s tired? Life Changing

Sleeves rolled up to forearms is all good and Well but also when they have Sweater Paws in their hoodies or jumpers? Makes the tallest of them seem so smol? I’m lov?

When they run their hand through their hair and it sticks up in places and it looks So Good

Collar Bones

Soft pudgy stomachs they absolutely make me melt

When ya boy gets flustered A++ Bonus points if he giggles Boys giggling is Everything

[itsagifnotagif]

I think this is like the first positive post about boys that isnt to do with a celebrity for ages and it is actually super nice to read????

[dontmakemedothisagain]

More soft boy things:

That small teasing smirk when they say something they know you like

Falling on top of them when they’re asleep and they just very softly go oof

When the jump up some place high and sit and lean down to kiss you

Cuddles their fucking cuddles man

Being entranced by a movie

Boys + Starbucks

Messy hair

They try to be tough. They soft

Boys are so fucking beautiful I love them

[navigator-vhixxa]

This is the truest boy post and there are so many things that make me melt

getting so into a song that they can convince you anything is A Jam

when they get excited over a meal you cooked

kissing the back of your hand

when it’s an unknown number and they put on the Phone Voice

blowing their hair out of the way when it gets long

watching them talking passionately to someone else and see their expression change 3 times a second

when they prank you and laugh real hard but you’re like “joke’s on you because I get to hear your cute laugh”

Boys are super wholesome and good

[buttercupbi]

Some additions:

if you hurt yourself they get super concerned and their voice raises like two octaves when they ask if you’re ok

making reference to an inside joke in a group of friends and covertly glancing at you to make sure you’ve noticed

holding your hand while doing another task

endlessly making fun of you but always watching to make sure you know they don’t actually mean it

turning teasing into super sweet compliments to watch you squirm

[under-the-arch]

This site needs more pure wholesome male positivity.

[thegreenpea]

@disrespectful-colgate wbu?

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

You stain my lips like cigarettes and breath mints

I bite my lip in mourning

Tangled within my teeth like interlocked fingers

The last part of you to let go.

My fingers are still reaching

Except its for the bottle

Or any new fascination to keep them busy

And far from grasping for the air you took from my lungs.

You left without packing

Yet you still took every piece of me like it was yours for the taking

Maybe because it was

I've always and will always be completely yours with my heart in your pocket but none of me in your mind.

You stain my lips like cigarettes and stomped me when you were done

You lit me up, gave me air and then smothered me until I could hardly breathe.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

If you get upset that someone tells someone else (ie. Therapist, or other friend) how you talk to them/about them to them, then you need to reevaluate how you treat that person.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

How do you know if you’re asexual?

Is there like a half way asexual? Am I just not done developing? Am I just over paranoid?

[wfqffw]

As far as I know, the proper term for asexual means having no sexual desires for other people ever. Which I don’t think exists outside of trauma from being raped maybe or mental/neurological conditions like depression or autism spectrum disorder.

Of course you’ll find the more liberal term of asexuality which is having no or very little sexual desires for others. And then you have the “asexuality umbrella” where every sexual aspect under the sun is categorised and deemed as special and “oppressed”. There’s literally people who only feel sexual attraction after knowing the person a bit who are calling themselves “asexual.”

Conclusion: 99% of people who adopt some sort of asexuality label are just looking for attention. And they’re mostly teens who haven’t finished developing yet. A school councillor once told me she met past students you didn’t start feeling sexual attraction until their twenties.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

Okay so I'm just normal and maybe a bit late, that's a little comforting, thanks

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

How do you know if you're asexual?

Is there like a half way asexual? Am I just not done developing? Am I just over paranoid?

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

Blackouts weren't what I thought they were, or maybe they are and I'm just searching for a name for the feeling of no control over my actions and watching myself live.

Blackouts are maybe the best part of this because at least watching me I look happy.

Or maybe they're the worst because I know that they're not real.

Maybe they're the best because I know people like that me.

Maybe they're the worst because people who hate that me can only see that version.

They're the only I don't think he can protect me from, because unlike everything, they happen around him.

No one ever talks about them, no matter how I bring it up, and I feel I'm drifting into them more.

Its blurring my reality and my understanding but disappears for the consequences.

I don't know if blacking out is the word but it always seemed like a distant concept until all I could think of was black, and words still tumbled out of my mouth

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

I used to believe that my heart had just found a temporary place to stay, that it liked being secure with a boy that doesn't understand feelings.

And I thought that maybe I just needed somebody to come in and show me what feelings are.

But my heart has never beat so fast as when someone else finally did.

It has never beat so fast as when realizing I don't just want a boy, I want the one that makes me smile and makes me think deeply and widely.

I want the boy that can hardly see, not the boy that calls me cute.

The boy that doesn't understand feelings.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

Enough

Nothing I’ve ever done has matched up to a level of good enough.

I wasn’t good enough at being a cute 18 month old, because if I was my father would have thought I was worth missing some of the finer things in life.

I’ve never tended to be good enough at eating, I eat just too little that people begin to look at me weird, but I’ve never been good enough at not eating to be skinny and pretty.

I’ve never been good enough at walking, I’ve got the bruises and scratches to prove it.

I’ve never been good enough at breathing, you can see it in my medical records, but I’ve never been good enough at being bad at it enough for people to take it seriously.

I’ve never been good enough at flirting for the boy to like me back, but I’ve never been good enough at not doing it for my friend not to get upset that I was flirting with a boy she decided to like 2 seconds before I said something.

I’ve never been good enough at cutting for it ever to be more than “asking for attention”, and it’s never made someone think there could possibly be something of a real problem.

I’ve never been good enough at reading social cues, I’ve always tended to be a beat behind, and I never learned the difference between excuse and explanation.

I don’t think I’ve ever been good enough at panic attacks because I space out instead of hyperventilate, but I still get the same headaches.

Being told to go kill myself has never been serious enough for someone to step in, because I’ve never been good enough for it to matter.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

Silence

My mom says I’ll appreciate silence when I’m older. I don’t have the words to tell her that silence gives me headaches worse than any child could.

Silence makes focus on what isn’t there, and what could be there, living in the fear of both being alone and not.

Silence leaves me with the sound of clocks, arms telling of a time passing alone.

Silence leaves me with the sound of my breathing, and reminding me how bad I am at it.

Silence means there’s no distraction to keep up with my thoughts, sometimes it catches up with me in places it’s not even quiet, if nobody is making is making a sound, no matter what may be playing, my minds sometimes starts to drift to a place I thought was reserved for silence.

But his silence seems to be different.

I can breathe in it I think, because I’m not even listening to it.

He’s the distraction without even looking.

He’s a different kind of silence.

He’s a silence I can grow to appreciate.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

Urge

For every degree made up in your head and half baked understanding of things you’ve never been through. My last scars are fading but that does not mean I’m fine. Having the urge to do it, having the urge to hurt yourself, having the urge to slit your skin is so much worse for you than having the will to do it.

Your body can handle some damage, your body can handle losing a little blood, your body can handle scrapes, scratches and scars. But I don’t think I’ll ever handle wanting to do that to my body, yet here we are every single day.

I miss cutting like an old friend, with lingering pieces that don’t make you sad anymore, but they do make you feel.

I miss cutting like an old house, an old home, everytime you see it, there’s a little skip in your heart, or mild tingles down your fingertips.

Since I’ve stopped all I’ve been left with is a terrible want, and a hole in my chest filled with fear of what one mistake could really mean.

So congratulations, i’ve stopped cutting, that’s all you wanted, all you seemed to care about, making sure my skin looked like nothing happened.

You cured me.

I’m scared, I’m completely terrified, but you cured me.

[avoiding-the-parentals-deactiva]

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

[nimurea]

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.

[phase2-moved-deactivated2021073]

IF YOU SCROLL PAST THIS UNFOLLOW ME IMMEDIATELY I SWEAR TO GOD

[goddess-of-the-gay-unicorns-dea]

*throws rainbow confetti in air*

[we-used-to-know-eachother-deact]

Supporter. :3

[spacedouterri]

SUPPORT!!!

[crystalleena-deactivated2022101]

SUPPORT

[lonely-sylveon-deactivated20190]

Support

[mleak107-deactivated20191003]

Support all the way up!

[cas1224]

Pan and ace

[misandristabbacchio-remade-deac]

*tosses bi-ace confetti*

[satan-s-enemy]

Demisexual panromantic

[myreticentvale-deactivated20231]

Keep the flame going for those we have lost to suicide. 

[maddisonkennedy-deactivated2017]

Couldn’t scroll

[thy-devil-princess-deactivated2]

I don’t give a fuck if this doesn’t suit your ‘theme’ have a heart and reblog.

[cyndaquil17-deactivated20180822]

Keep the flame spread the tag.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

Forbidden; something you can’t have, an impossible thing.

Forbidden is a commonly occurring word in my life, but never did I think it could ever mean a person. Forbidden for me, has been a million things, but it has never been an emotion, an attraction, a feeling.

But people are attracted to things they cannot have, and how stupid it was of me to think that would end with people.

To me she was forbidden, she was everything I couldn’t have, I started stealing to fill the space, but I knew I was never into material things the way I was into her smile.

She ignites this fire underneath my skin, I’ve been smoking to get that feeling again, but no puff of cigarette smoke will compare to the feeling she gives me.

But so many things stand in between you and me, maybe that’s why I started sneaking around, but it was never the same as that look in your eyes.

How does a girl, with such a sweet smile get tied to words I never wish I’d found.

Forbidden. Impossible. Real. Alive

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

A.

I just want to listen to you talk. I want to listen to what you did that day, even if I was there the entire time. I like to hear how you saw it, and I like to hear the words you choose to describe the events that probably weren’t near as amazing as you make them seem. I love to hear you talk, I love the sound of your voice, I love the echo of your laugh.

I didn’t like you, until I learnt you could play the guitar, then it changed, there became a possibility of me liking you, maybe, eventually, in some alternate universe where you weren’t so….out there. So I didn’t didn’t like you, I just didn’t quite like you. Yet. There were many more stages to come.

I didn’t quite like you, until I learnt you like to cook, then it changed again, this time I could feel it in my fingertips. That entire week I thought I liked you, I thought I had such a big crush, on such a big dork. I was wrong. I didn’t like you. Yet. I just...accepted that you were in my life.

Three classes is a lot of time to be around somebody, good thing I’d accepted you were there. I became used to your nearly half constant presence, and that was the second time I thought I liked you. This delusion went on a little longer than the last one. This was the first of many times I compared your laugh and your hair to the autumn leaves, I’m so glad you never read those words. I still didn’t actually like you. I just almost liked you.

Your eyes stand out from the rest of you, they're blue, really blue, I could be cliché and compare them to the ocean or the sky, and oh boy did I. Staring into them the way I did brought the feelings back. This time they were real. I liked you. I really liked you.

Your hand is warm, not as warm as mine but I consider that a good thing. You just grabbed it, you didn't hesitate but I guess you were just trying to stop me. This is the point where things got complicated. I might like you, but I'm thinking for the first time really that you might like her. But the moment your hand reaches mine all I can think of is I might like you.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

Words

Her two hundred don’t even come close to crossing out your single four words. You’re not pretty enough.

I lie awake because I know I’m not pretty enough for it to make a difference, and I’m desperately trying to figure out what standards I am failing to meet.

Every morning I stand at the mirror staring, wondering if I’m wearing enough makeup to cover all the red spots you told me about.

I find my fingers tangling in my hair, but I know if I pull too hard it’ll just become another thing you tease me about.

I stopped crying so long ago, but they just want to fall with every piece of my self esteem, but I just can’t let go.

Every step is a reminder of those words, and ever smile is just a little bit faker, because your words are all I can think of.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

♡

My heart comes in pieces, but I’ve never kept them to myself. BUt no matter how many are missing, there’s always so many left behind.

Every time you get mad at me I give you another piece to try to fix the problem, and it feels like every time you just squeeze it suffocatingly in your fist. It becomes harder to breathe.

Sometimes I build up enough courage to give you one of my important pieces, but you always seem to compare it to something else you’ve found. I think this is just creating more pieces.

I think the number of heart pieces matches the number of faults you’ve found in me, if that’s true for everyone then I see why you don’t see any in yourself.

[tulipinapatchofdaisies]

How to Screw up your Life

Fall for the blond boy with big eyes that smiles every time you talk to him.

Fall for every shade of red his cheeks turn to when he’s talking.

Fall for the intensity in his eyes when he stares at you across the room..

Fall for he way he doesn’t seem to notice you’re staring back.

Fall for him despite your brain and even your heart screaming no.

Remember all the stories she told you about him

Remember all the hours she talked about his blond hair and big eyes.

Remember how she looks at him when he’s not looking.

Remember that she’s always been there for you.

Remember the reasons your heart says no.