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I hate being so sensitive. I hate being able to detect the slightest change in the way people message me, or talk to me, or look at me. I hate overthinking about it for the whole night. I hate when I can feel someone is slowly losing interest in me.

stevenbong

“I fall apart subtly. It’s not loud. It’s bags under my eyes, and meals skipped. It’s not laughing at my favorite shows, not singing along to my favorite songs. It’s subtle, but oh my god, it is real and right now I’m in a million pieces.”

— Unknown

explicitcherry

*looks at the moon* well arent you gonna help me bitch

open

lucky-lust-blog

n-m-poems

monetdoesntgrowontrees-deactiva

unspokengrief

god I wish none of us were sad

flyngdream

bedjacket

otteroftheworld

My parents live in this town and the city legally can’t tear the tree down to build or anything because the tree has its own legal rights and they can’t do anything about it.

dirtyfnafconfessions

how does. how does this happen. how DID this happen

giraffepoliceforce

I love this story because this guy in the early 1800’s had so many great childhood memories of this tree and wanted to make sure it was protected no matter what. So he deeded the ownership of the tree to itself and everyone just went with it.

Then in 1942 this intense windstorm came and knocked the tree over. And people were bummed. But someone had saved an acorn from the original tree, so they planted that and now Son of the Tree That Owns Itself is over 50 feet tall.

And since this new tree is technically the offspring of the original tree it’s considered to have legally inherited the plot of land it’s inhabiting.

Two generations of trees owning land is amazing and if you don’t think this is the coolest thing get right out of my face.