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assyrianjalebi

Salma Hayek in From Dusk till Dawn (1996), dir. Robert Rodriguez

I hate sleeping alone 😞.... why when every night can be spent cuddled up.

1hat3u

hopeless romantic with trust issues and a sex drive out the roof

onlinecounsellingcollege

How to Cope with Hurt and Pain

1. Try to give it form and to put it into words. Don’t allow it to be shapeless as that’s harder to resolve.

2. Agree that you will look at it and not ignore the pain - as any unexpressed emotions lead to problems later on.

3. Avoid triggers and memories that take you back in time, and open up old wounds, so you feel the pain again.

4. Ground yourself in the present and who you are today – and remember you have strengths, and good people in your life.

5. Don’t allow the hurt and pain to take control of who you are, or limit what you’ll do, or the goals you set yourself.

6. Spend as much time as possible with those who treat you well – with those who see your worth, and who love and value you.

frankocean

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frankocean

all posts after 2am and before 7am shall be forgiven.

frankocean

OK, if one person managed to stop themselves from spinning this morning.. while the earth and everything keeps going.. would that person then get smashed into by the objects around her and cause massive destruction upon impact? or is that poor physics?

i know, i know..quit asking dumb ass questions to the internet and drop your album. haha

frankocean

I read in the paper that my brothers are being thrown from rooftops blindfolded with their hands tied behind their backs for violating sharia law. I heard the crowds stone these fallen men if they move after they hit the ground. I heard it’s in the name of God. I heard my pastor speak for God too, quoting scripture from his book. Words like abomination popped off my skin like hot grease as he went on to describe a lake of fire that God wanted me in. I heard on the news that the aftermath of a hate crime left piles of bodies on a dance floor this month. I heard the gunman feigned dead among all the people he killed. I heard the news say he was one of us. I was six years old when I heard my dad call our transgender waitress a faggot as he dragged me out a neighborhood diner saying we wouldn’t be served because she was dirty. That was the last afternoon I saw my father and the first time I heard that word, I think, although it wouldn’t shock me if it wasn’t. Many hate us and wish we didn’t exist. Many are annoyed by our wanting to be married like everyone else or use the correct restroom like everyone else. Many don’t see anything wrong with passing down the same old values that send thousands of kids into suicidal depression each year. So we say pride and we express love for who and what we are. Because who else will in earnest? I daydream on the idea that maybe all this barbarism and all these transgressions against ourselves is an equal and opposite reaction to something better happening in this world, some great swelling wave of openness and wakefulness out here. Reality by comparison looks grey, as in neither black nor white but also bleak. We are all God’s children, I heard. I left my siblings out of it and spoke with my maker directly and I think he sounds a lot like myself. If I being myself were more awesome at being detached from my own story in a way I being myself never could be. I wanna know what others hear, I’m scared to know but I wanna know what everyone hears when they talk to God. Do the insane hear the voice distorted? Do the indoctrinated hear another voice entirely?