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#whats wrong with my brain
noname-404s-blog · 9 months
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My life 😢
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sheepishscoop · 1 year
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Find a pencil and a marker. Unexpected long break at work. Might as well draw a Maxim.
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enterchaos-13 · 9 months
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I think I've reached a point in my life where I'm scared.
Im scared of relationships
Im scared of love.
Because every person I've ever loved has hurt me
Has abandoned me
My friends tell me "Oh I think you have a bad type"
But I don't have a type
I just want love
Stupid unconditional love.
The type of love you're excited to come home to,
Excited giggles and giddiness,
Happiness and growth.
Yet the Gods have seemed to decide to tease me with permanent feelings for temporary people,
I hope they've gotten a good laugh at least.
Cause all they've caused is a closed off heart
And a fear of love.
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braindamaged007 · 1 year
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Gets an idea for a new fanfic
Scribbles out notes
Writes the prologue
Publishes on WattPad
Loses motivation.......
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greenvlvetcouch · 1 year
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“I hate you.” “No you don’t.” - wolfstar
(i hope u feel better soon!!! 🖤)
i—the medicine must be messing with my head because i swore i'd never write wolfstar angst like this, but here we are. and it's long. and thank you! i'm feeling a bit better, but also, maybe not if this came out of my brain. CW & TW / alcohol and angst
Boxes he had not seen in years were turned over and thrown across the floor. 
School books—photos of both of them and James and Lily. An pair of Remus’s glasses and a few worn shirts Sirius had gotten him what seemed eons ago. 
Concert tickets, handwritten notes, an old pair of socks Remus had loved but begrudgingly thrown out of after they had gotten a hole.
All littered across the floor, some clearly having been stepped on. Some had been taken into the kitchen, a note from fifth year sitting under a broken mug. 
Hundreds of memories Remus hadn't even known had been kept were strewn about their apartment, mixed with broken bits and pieces. 
He slowly walked in front of Sirius, sitting on the couch, but he didn't move—didn't even spare Remus a glance. He wiped a hand down his face, taking another sip of whatever was in the bottle. 
Sirius’s lids were heavy, and he reeked of alcohol.
It was silent for some time, and he watched as Sirius finally shifted, his sweater slipping off one shoulder. He fixed it before taking another sip. “...someone other than you.” 
“What?”
Sirius spoke up this time, loud and clear—a bit too loud in their small apartment. “I wish I loved someone other than you.” 
It was soft, his words not matching the tone. It cut through Remus like a knife, slicing deep and quick until it found guilt and carved it out of him. “What does that mean?”
“Stop.”
“What?” 
Sirius sighed, lulling his head to the side. “I hate you—” 
“No, you don’t. I—”
“I love you, and you walk all over me.” 
Remus was stunned into silence. “I know you love me. I love yo—”
“Shut the fuck up.” It was said on the end of a sigh like it had been said a million times before, and Sirius was just so tired of repeating himself. “You don't ever fucking listen. I love you—I love you, Remus, and you treat me like any other person.” 
Finally, he sat up, his knees coming out from under Remus’s sweater. “I don't think I deserve much, but I think being treated decently by the person I love is an okay thing to ask for. If it's not, and I don’t deserve that, then I guess I’ve done a lot worse in my life than I realize, but what the fuck ever—” 
“I don't understand.” Remus’s brows drew together, and his fingers twitched. “Pads, you’re drunk. You need to—”
Sirius finally looked at him, their eyes met, and he sneered. “Don't tell me what the fuck I need to do.” 
Remus was stunned, going to speak but was cut off by Sirius standing suddenly, stumbling for a moment before he caught himself on the couch. A sharp finger was pointed in his direction.
“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do because I sure as hell don't tell you what the fuck to do. I let you do whatever the fuck you want—you do whatever the fuck you want anyway.” Sirius laughed, waiving his hand dismissively. 
“You bring home these blondes—God, I'm so tired of seeing fucking blondes—every single fucking night. You fuck them every night, and I sleep on the couch because I'm so fucking tired of hearing you fuck them.” 
Sirius pushed past Remus, walking towards the kitchen. He looked small, Remus’s sweater swallowing him. 
“You bring home girls every night, and you fuck them and wake up in the morning, and I make you breakfast. And I make them breakfast too because I'm a decent fucking human being, but you don’t give a fucking shit.” He turned, pointing a finger at Remus again, driving his point home. “You don't give a fucking shit.” 
Sirius stepped over the glass, reaching into the cabinet and grabbing another bottle. He poured himself a drink, and Remus heard him chuckle. The chuckle turned into a laugh, and Sirius took a long sip before he coughed, and his laugh broke off into a sob. 
Sirius hung his head, elbows against the counter, and spoke quietly. “I’ve loved you for so long; it's like it's a part of me. It's terrible—shit, it fucking hurts. It hurts so fucking much, and I wish I could just reach inside of me and rip it the fuck out because I'm so tired of hurting.” 
Remus watched as Sirius roughly wiped away a few tears, smearing them across his cheek. “I'm so tired of listening to you fuck girls and canceling plans and the sad looks James and Lily give me.” 
He turned his head to the side, looking at Remus. “I'm so tired of you treating me like shit when you're pissed. Brushing me off, I smile through it because I would do anything for you. I will—and I know I’ll wake up tomorrow and clean up this mess, and there will be breakfast waiting for you.”
Sirius swallowed, and his voice finally broke as he spoke next—simply. “There will be breakfast waiting for you because I love you."
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potatoshipps · 1 year
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A bit of simp ranting.
Waiting for the New Year holidays to end, because I want to make my newfound dream true.
Not a dream. THE GOAL.
I'll have my Mammon cut-out even if I'm dead, incinerated or became broke overnight :)
I'm just tired of the endless cycle of quitting and returning to the game, simping and just generally being too emotionally involved in the life of characters that just don't exist in real life-
Thank you very much, I'm really in love with them, but i want a healthy way out of this mess and yeah, what is the better way to cure your addiction if not to make a physical confirmation of it.
If it works, the next one is the Satan cut-out - I'm not ready to have Levi's abs in the place where my grandma might see them, too much for my heart (and hers, but who knows, maybe she'll like it).
Btw I can't understand the work schedule of the places where I can order that damned cut-out (they all have the not-holiday one on their websites, which is not helpful at all), so I've choosen the easiest way out👌
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I hate social interaction, but I hate being lonely.
I hate making no sense, cause no one understands me.
But I love when no one understands me, cause then I scare them.
I love scaring people, cause then they stay away.
But I hate it when they stay away, cause I hate being lonely.
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sin1039 · 1 year
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Me, every time someone likes or reblogs my art. The feels, man...
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I’m feeling empty, like there’s a hole that needs to be filled with some form of joy. I’m tired of feeling this way. What’d I do to deserve this? I have a nice family, sure we’re a little dysfunctional but they’re nice. I get what I want, I’m spoiled. Girl, Interrupted put it best. I’m just a spoiled little girl driving herself mad. It’s all in my head, ain’t it? I could be fine if I tried.
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musicorum-femina · 1 year
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you think you can fix me? glue back the shredded pieces, conceal the abyss? I don’t need someone to glue and stick me back together. I need someone to stich back together my scattered pieces, weld them so they stick. Cover the gaping holes with their own skin. A beautiful quilt. I need someone to cradle me gently, and blow my spirit back into me with tender whispers. For them to become one with me, body mind and soul. To kiss me until my skin knows nothing but their lips, to hold me till my body knows nothing but their arms, to be with me till my heart knows nothing but their love. To forget myself when I am without you. I need to pour my entire soul into them, every skewed, scarred part, and for them to return the favor. To be unified till I don’t know where i end and you begin. I want to own your heart, and you to own mine. You can’t fix me. But you can hold my hand as I burn.  
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plutoisaplanet0 · 1 year
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I am not okay, like I am actually sick.
I stay in bed all day and I can’t brush my teeth anymore. I wear dirty clothes and my room is a fucking mess. I want to sleep all day and have no motivation to do anything. And still, no one notices nor do they care. I don’t know what to do
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everchased · 1 year
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can someone please get these hoes under control i'm BUSY
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buggachat · 4 months
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something so fucked up about Chat Noir’s whole deal is that he is in a lot of ways Adrien playing a character. Like Adrien picked up his miraculous and was told he’d be a superhero so he was like “ok, time to act like a superhero!” and he lets himself have fun w it and play up the role and let loose and kind of just allow himself to be silly and goofy and have fun and for once in his life not care about performing Perfection™.
But. But none of the other characters KNOW THAT. So everyone just sees Chat Noir and is like “look at this guy’s ego. He’s so full of himself. Surely it’d be fair to knock him down a few pegs” without being aware of how few pegs he actually HAS. He’s like the “insecure character who overcompensates in ego” trope except he’s really not doing it unironically, he’s just having a fun LARP pretending to have self worth in his off-hours but nobody else is on the same page about it being a game and he refuses to tell them. He just dramatically pouts about it and lets them laugh and pretends like he’s not internalizing it and it is almost 3 am and my brain forced me to write this instead of sleeping I’m gonna take a melatonin
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braindamaged007 · 1 year
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Me: *clicks on a YouTube video*
Narrator: *cuts from story to show picture of a lady*
Me: oh wow she's really pretty, why do I think she's so pretty?
Narrator: Katie's debilitating mental illness would unfortunately lead to her murdering both of her children and then taking her own life...
Me: Oh that's why...
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Me to my friend: my parents are not at home you wanna come hung out for a few days?
Her: oh ok let me ask my mom
Me:
Me: god i hope she says no I'm regretting this i hope she says no
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