What If We Went To A Local Farmers Market And Spent The Entire Day Buying Fruits, Vegetables And Local

okay but THIS hits differently

imagine taking your long distance girlfriend on a hometown date where you get to show her your favorite places and where you used to hangout with your friends after school and going to dinner at your old favorite diner hnn

Hiç konuşmaz bazen gül susar,

Yaprak titrer acıyla düş yanar.

Orada, o güzel uykuda hüzün,

Büyür, büyünün sonsuzluğuna.

if you tell them what they want to hear, they’ll stop asking.

Best thing you can do for yourself? Stop giving a fuck.

Literally all the things people judge about you and you judge about others doesn’t mean shit. Beauty is nothing but taught torture. We’re taught to hate our noses because there’s something we can buy to “fix” it. We’re taught to hate “fat” because there’s something we can buy to remove it. YOURE BEING TAUGHT TO HATE YOURSELF. YOURE BEING TAUGHT THIS SO YOU BUY MORE SHIT. If you fully understand that vanity means absolutely nothing if it doesn’t make you feel good, you start to realize how useless it is to judge based on looks. And others who judge start to look less important because you understand their mindset is in a completely different place. You owe absolutely no one anything. Why die thinking you didn’t enjoy yourself based on how your looks “held” you back? Humans are more than the rodents we’re convinced we are.

Imagine slow dancing with a girl and she rests her head against your shoulder and just perfectly fits there in your arms

i want to run under a full moon and feel the mossy grass between my feet. to feel the moon light slip through my hair would be a dream. is this too much to ask for??

am i going to continue my quest to watch supernatural? maybe ? did i start four years ago and only get through four seasons? yes ?

Generation Z

Generation Z was born with the tragedy of 9/11 shadowing our birth certificates. A warning signal of what’s to come in the rest of our lives.

Because we grew up going to class with four— yes, four— of our classmates raising their hands and having scars on their arms being exposed. No one says anything because it’s too common for the guidance counselor to deal with, so everyone adverts their eyes instead.

We have, time and time again, gone to class only to hide under our desks for four hours not being sure whether the alarm blaring in or ears is a drill or not. Texting your parents worried because nobody knows what’s going on, and all you can do is hope that this is one of the dozens of drills you have each month and not one of the hundreds of school shootings every year.

We’re afraid to go to concerts and movie theaters and malls, and the general fucking outside world with our friends or family because of the terrorism displayed on the news. We’re scared of ending up dead every time we leave our house because the chances of it happening are more likely than it not.

We grew up in a mental health crisis and a new age of terrorism and violence. We don’t have memories of being happy, because as soon as we became self aware we knew what was going on around us.

And every time we say something to make things better for the next generation after us; every time we cry or slit our wrists just like we know to do oh so well; every time we try to do anything in the our lives we’re told that we’re too young to understand. That we have nothing to fear.

And when we’re dead, what do we have to fear then?

When we’re dead, will we finally be heard?