Slipping Time Is Looking Down At You. Its Favourite Incarnation, And It's Thinking: Has It Forgotten

Despite it all I will live. Life wants to fuck me over? I will live fucking despite it. Pushes me around beyond my breaking point and further? I will live despite it.

Even though something is clawing at my insides, even though I realize how intolerable my pain is when I sit down and let everything sink in, even though the cookies I tried to bake tasted like frozen butter, even though dad hurt me again and mom didn't quite understand again,

I'm going to go on despite.

Why?

Because one thing bigger than my self-pity is my ego. And I am playing the most egotistical game with life.

And I will win. (Also my cat is rlly cute she makes me want to live)

“Do not lose hope. Please believe there are a thousand beautiful things waiting for you.”

— Unknown

Another fun thing I do with customers - specifically parents of very small children who don’t know they’re alive yet - is directly imply I think the coffee is for the baby, not the parent. and lemme tell you, like 70% of parents eat that shit up. They immediately go along with the bit and start discussing it with their newborn child, while the baby just stares at us like 😮

I never understood people who stay in abusive relationships when they have access to leaving the relationship.

But when my head hit the pillow this night i made sure to not sleep on my right (even though thats my favourite sleeping position) because not sleeping on your back causes Asymmetry. Then I realised Beauty is like the abuser that everyone praises you for having. For being in a relationship with. Beauty is like the ‘Perfect spouse’ that abuses you when no ones watching, the spouse that causes people to say shallow remarks “you’re such a lucky one for having this person” like you’re nothing without them. when really all the spouse does is hurts you where you can hide it and beautifies you where they can be praised for it. what are you without that spouse? What will you do, even if your life is peaceful if you’re not special anymore without your abusive accessory?

What will you do without beauty?

I've lived and felt for 30 years but she just smiled at me and I'm discovering emotions for the first time

"You can't be a lurker on tumblr." Yes, you absolutely can. I've been quietly reblogging things since 2014 and I haven't interacted with anyone in years.

"Yes, I'm a murderer. Be it for Good or Evil, I play culprit of several last breaths- Nothing can justify that- Yet somehow... I crave warmth."

"I blame the cold that rests within my core, for it makes me tremble and yearn for even a speck of fire. Perhaps it's why at the end of the day, I always find myself melted in your embrace. For I am a parasite. A parasite that leeches off your love," his eyes meet hers, "Stay away from me if you feel dire need of affection. Cryogenic knights have no love to offer." His tone is more direct this time, a vain attempt to seem intimidating. "Besides, Heat only melts ice."

Context: he's made of ice but she's made of Fire lmao, I love yin n yang tropes

My lovers in a band

He plays guitar while I hold his hand

Oh the sound of the screeching tunes

They scratch and bruise

He never lets go

Beauty's pain and

I'm his muse

"He wraps my fingers around the knife.

he's so close.

The only barrier between us is this pointed silver weapon.

He whispers softly, inches away from my lips— "Kill or kiss."

He moves even more forward, if that is possible. His breathy words are hush of air on my lips "-the choice is yours."

My heart is hammering in my chest. His eyes hold mine captive, not leaving for a second.

He stares at me, so desperate—

I press the tip of the knife into his throat.

My shadow casts over him as his knees grow weaker, eventually sitting him on top of the bed. Thighs find themselves on either side of him.

Blood trickles where I've pressed the knife.

My lips brush his and I feel the electricity dominating his nerves. I do not flinch when I speak.

"Why not both?"

—Hana Malik

Would you read? Written when I was 12 so I'm considering dropping it.

God gave me royalty to be at ease yet it's the thing I hate the most about me. He gave me good things to be grateful for but I hate them all. This is because there is something rotting within me. It was all assigned to the wrong person. I cannot be normal. "I feel scared Yusuf. I'm scared of you. Whenever you kiss my feet I remember how I was treated in the palace. You dont treat me like the servants used to. Why don't you treat me like the servants used to? Why don't you treat me like a slave? I am carrying every bad thing that has ever happened to me on my back like a sack of stones over my shoulder wherever I go. It digs into my neck and causes a rash that burns. Initially, I thought maybe I felt special. After all, I am a princess. I thought that's what separates me from the crowd. But when people flash a smile I feel offended. I hate it, Yusuf. I hate when people smile and compliment me. I hate anything lavish. I desperately need gold that is fake. I need to be clad in simple cotton kurtas. I hate the colour red. This is what I try to explain to you everyday! In the bazaar, you pitied me for the common stones on the rings occupying my fingers. I explained it to you then. After it all, you say I do not deserve the frail mattresses. What is that you mean? Are you trying to take revenge on me?! Though our hatred for my father is mutual, after all I am his daughter. How am I supposed to believe you do not wish to sabotage me when you threaten to put me in the same position I barely crawled out of? Do you even know? I hate the purple silk sheets and the grandiose bed chamber. When I lie on my back, I still do not get adequate rest because the light of the moon is caught by the very real diamonds stuck to the top edges of the chamber. It glints and reflects onto my eyes. It is blinding. I hate them, too. The royal stones remind me of the rotten marrow swimming in my bones. I hate when I look into the mirror and I look pretty."