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You’re not pretty. You never will be. You’re not worthy. You never will be. Give up. You will never win. Give up, Tasneem. It’s over. You've wounded yourself enough for a lifetime. Nobody wants you because you are ugly all over. You’re never good enough for anybody. You’re not pretty to look at. You’re ugly. You’re pathetic. You’re desperate. You’re a disgusting human being.  
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She has a mouth like unswept glass – when you least expect it she cuts you.
Junot Díaz (via quotemadness)
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I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.
Oscar Wilde (via quotemadness)
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Sometimes in life, we do a lot more than we intend to. We give out too much, only to be disappointed with getting nothing in return. That’s okay. Even if there are times when you never get back anything. 
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I have no race prejudices, and I think I have no color prejudices or caste prejudices nor creed prejudices. Indeed I know it. I can stand any society. All that I care to know is that a man is a human being-that is enough for me; he can’t be any worse.
Mark Twain (via wordsnquotes)
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This is what I needed. Guilt. Conscience. Pain. Tears. I needed to cry. Please. I want to cry till I get it out of my system
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Why doesn’t anyone listen?
Nobody wants to listen. I’m on the brink of mentally disintegrating. All I want to do is cry and let this crap out from my heart. I can’t. What happened to days when I couldn’t stop crying? This is torturous 
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One singular thing that I have hated my entire life; being ignored. What could be worse than that? Liars. That’s worse.
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theres this chinese girl in my class who isnt very fluent in english and she asked me if i have a boyfriend and i was like “i dont. i dont like. boys” and she nodded very wisely and went “ah. cooties”
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Liars. All fucking liars. Piece of shit
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Opening up to strangers has always been my fortè. You rant off without fearing it will bite you in the ass. 
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Progression of Sobriety
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Source: imgur.com
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Unsullied and Debauchery
Almost 5 years now since I have been keeping out my raging fire. 16. At the age of 16, I finally knew I was depraved and a deviant. 
My then boyfriend only fed into my sea of fire. It felt so good, so wrong but everything I needed for a momentary wash of paroxysmal liberation. In reality, he was just good with words. 
Turn a year around and I was writhing in my own burning fire of loneliness, craving a new another to ablaze my depravity. Then, I had another chance to explore the darkness wrapping my thoughts since understanding my sexuality. What a cruel twist of fate to have been falling for the wrong people again and again. By then, I had enthusiastically adopted my debased wholeness coexisting in my core. 
As I got older, I got more and more shy about who I had been. I stopped letting my depravity become my identity. I’m living a half-life. I don’t know who or what I am. But, I’m conscious clear about what I need. Dominance. Degradation. Slavery to a master. A master. But, my gut feeling says I will never find one who would love me and treat me as his esclavo. What are my odds of finding a dominar who would love me? Someone who knows the fine line between rape and consent, what my heart aches for. 
I read these fictional dark stories. It only makes me more grounded to the reality of never being able to find my dominar. Master controlling me, letting myself go.
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Final moment
“I remember the way.” “You remember the way,” I echoed. He looked at me and smiled. It cheered me. Perhaps because I knew he was taunting me. Twenty years was yesterday, and yesterday was just earlier this morning, and morning seemed light-years away. “I’m like you,” he said. “I remember everything.” I stopped for a second. If you remember everything, I wanted to say, and if you are really like me, then before you leave tomorrow, or when you’re just ready to shut the door of the taxi and have already said goodbye to everyone else and there’s not a thing left to say in this life, then, just this once, turn to me, even in jest, or as an afterthought, which would have meant everything to me when we were together, and, as you did back then, look me in the face, hold my gaze, and call me by your name.
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I am a heteroromantic demisexual who’s also into BDSM. So there’s that
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