I Can Tell I'm Sleep Deprived Bc I Just Made Myself Cry About Tutankhamun And I Have, Like, Negative

it's so important for your health and well-being to get overly attached to a fictional man who is both deeply amoral and unbelievably, pathetically sad

Hit me like a truck bestie :")

if you were weirdly obsessed with going to boarding school as a kid then you’re queer and mentally ill now

Solitude was my only consolation — deep, dark, deathlike solitude.

— Mary W. Shelley

Remember when Fleabag said, ""I want someone to tell me what to wear in the morning. I want someone to tell me what to wear EVERY morning. I want someone to tell me what to eat. What to like, what to hate, what to rage about, what to listen to, what band to like, what to buy tickets for, what to joke about, what not to joke about. I want someone to tell me what to believe in, who to vote for, who to love and how to tell them."

The last line made me think about this a lot. It's okay to be dependent for a bit, rest ourselves on someone else's shoulder without feeling like we are living a cliché.

actually, growing up is feeling like i turned sixteen two days ago. i’ve been eighteen for years. fifteen year olds seem so young. wasn’t i fifteen just a few weeks ago? all my friends and i are still twelve. i’m closer to thirty then to being a baby. i never got to be a kid. i never grew past eight. i can’t talk to my mom. i want to sit in her lap forever. the week is going by so slow. an entire year has passed. i want to decide everything for myself. i need someone to tell me exactly what to do.

"Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry."

-Holden Caulfield

Alias Grass ‘cause we go from grass to grace

my god is my imaginary friend and i have known him since we were both kids being brought up by distant parents with shaky hands, empty hearts and heavy heads. we taught them compassion as we learnt it.

what if you wore a shirt that featured a picture of you trying to claw your way out of the shirt with a horrid desperate expression and the text "THAT'S NOT ME THAT'S NOT ME I'M TRAPPED IN THE SHIRT"

Why is everyone asleep? Why must we be quiet and resting when we can be sleep deprived and be (.) this close to finding something truly breathtaking on some forgotten, neglected corner of the internet or finally have that one conversation with our estranged partners that we have dreaded for too long and be over with the anxiety? Why must we not stir the excitement within when we see someone talk about our favorite tv show which hasn't been watched by many yet? Why are we sleeping? Why are we not holding hands and kissing and confessing our love for one another? Why are we not telling the people we love how difficult isolation was and that every moment of it was lived with a flickering hope that after all of this is a little better we will get to touch, be touched again? Why are we pretending we weren't touch starved? Why are we sleeping when we should be making each other cute keychains that have a picture of our favorite place printed on them?

Not everyone can afford this madness, i am not tethered to anything, loneliness is a side effect of self medicating,nothing good can come out of infinite apologies;

my tragedy is- my freedom is absolute; it's abandonment at its finest. I am everything my mother warned me not to be.