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She remembered who she was and the game changed.
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GUYS GUYS I SAID "OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD" IN THE MIDDLE OF AN ARGUMENT AND THEN HE DID WTF WTF HE KISSED ME WHAT THE FUCK IM NOT OKAY
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someone will ache for your soul. wait for them.
e.russell
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you don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.
-harry styles
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Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
H. Jackson Brown Jr., P.S. I Love You
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No, I'm not ok. But I haven't been ok since I was 11, maybe 12. I am still here though. I'm still breathing. For me, sometimes, that will have to be enough.
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"I had a room to myself as a kid, but my mother was always quick to point out that it wasn't my room, it was her room and I was merely permitted to occupy it. Her point, of course, was that my parents had earned everything and I was merely borrowing the space, and while this is technically true I cannot help but marvel at the singular damage of this dark idea: That my existence as a child was a kind of debt and nothing, no matter how small, was mine. That no space was truly private; anything of mine could be forfeited at someone else's whim."
- Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House
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questioning
my body moves; my hands find work to occupy themselves with, my feet carry me from place to place… one event to the next. I consume food and water. I soak up the sun as well as the rain. I’m alive. But wait… is this really living? Do I feel ALIVE? No. This weight of constant anxiety and pain of the monotony. Never forgetting the past, no-one to love, nothing to move towards. None of the things I do truly give me joy. For what is living worth if you don’t feel truly alive?
cred: Leah Caron (thoughtsfromthecorneroftheroom)
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— A. Y.
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"I may think of you softly from time to time. But I’ll cut off my hand before I ever reach for you again."
//Arthur Miller, The Crucible: A Play in Four Acts
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i want to lie on the beach with you one night. looking up at the pinpricks in the sky, reflected back across the water. i want to roll over and see those stars in your eyes, and finally, kiss you. eyes closed, the world falling away. my hands at your cheeks and in your hair, your arms around my waist, our bodies pressed so close together.
we don’t have to do anything more. just kiss. i just want you close to me. i know humans can’t fuse into one being, can’t merge into one soul. but i think with some facets of love, you might find yourself wanting to try.
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at the end of the day
we’re just broken creatures
enchanted with dismay
able to see the light in others
but never be able to say
how much time we have
to be grateful
we just lie in disdain
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I’m an introvert. I’m not boring, I’m just shy. Just because I don’t announce them to the world, doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions. Just because I’m quiet and listen doesn’t mean I don’t have something to say.
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when people ask what my particular type of pain feels like… this is what I would say if I was honest:
it’s the feeling of not belonging, an endless search for home and support
it’s the dull ache in your heart as you try
to grasp at something, anything to hold you steady.
it’s a blizzard of emotions… mixed together so violently that you become numb.
it’s the never ending monotony of getting up from the ground, just to be kicked back down into the dust.
but other people never notice this pain, they don’t understand… or maybe, they just don’t want to; because they just don’t care.
and I think maybe, that is the part that hurts the most.
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