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if you’re having any sort of trouble with black & white thinking & convincing yourself that you’re inherently a “bad person” to everyone who is and has been in your life, i hope you remember to take a few deep breaths before jumping onto the self-hate train. there isn’t a single person in this world who hasn’t done or said the wrong thing, who hasn’t harmed someone in a way or made a mistake. you can’t automatically judge yourself for your wrongdoings. you’re much more than them.

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nobody is irrelevant. nobody is invisible. your neighbors know your name and see you set off to school or work or the backyard everyday, sometimes with a spring in your step and sometimes with hunched over shoulders. there was this one time some stranger pointed you out to their friends and said “that’s the haircut I want” or “I have that shirt, too” or “they go to my school”. someone has admired the way you carry yourself or gave a presentation or even the way you’re so polite when you first meet a person. you’ve made comments or jokes that have stuck in minds of overhearers and eavesdroppers. when old classmates of yours think back to kindergarten or fourth grade or sophomore year they remember you and have an opinion of you. you’ve made recommendations of songs and restaurants and even cookie brands and actually introduced people to their all-time favorites. the cashier at the grocery store knows exactly what laundry detergent your household uses, or even if you don’t do your laundry at all.

you can never be irrelevant. there’s pieces of you everywhere, in a dozen lives, in a hundred dreams, in a million memories. maybe it’s true that you don’t have any friends, and you have a sucky relationship with your family or no family at all and no-one ever checks up on you, and you’re really very lonely, but that doesn’t determine your worth. you do. and so do the billions of small attributions you’ve already made to the world, both long-term and short-term. so thank you.

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the only person you need to be good enough for is yourself

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ayo ngl i hate everything rn and i kinda wanna crash my car into a tree everytime im in it but instead im gonna draw things that dont make sense and scream sing down the highway bc thats the only thing helping me escape this feeling

#this counts as a vent i guess i just like how this place helps me focus my feelings #so feel free to ignore #its not the worst ive felt though so at least i can say thst #also im no longer blaming everyone else which. is hard. but a step up #i am my own demon u know #not so positive

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I want to spend every second of my life loving you as much as possible.

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I THINK I AM GOING TO CUT MY HAIR

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“All of a sudden two decades have passed and you still have not kissed anyone with tongue, or kissed anyone at all for that matter, or had a 3 AM conversation with someone who would rather look into your eyes for ten minutes straight than talk. You have never worn a lover’s sweater or “forgotten” it at home in your bedroom just so you would have an excuse to see them again. You have never even stood face-to-face with someone who makes your hands shake so hard it feels like they’re both having a separate anxiety attack. This causes you much guilt and self-blame and sadness but above all, an overwhelming curiosity. Are you really that ugly, that unwanted, that uninteresting, that boring, that no one, absolutely no one, has ever looked at you like the only thing on earth? The answer is no. The better answer is that someone out there, somewhere in the world, is “wondering what it’s like to meet someone like you,” and they have two decades worth of love stored in their veins like a shoot-‘em-up drug, and they’re just about ready to inject it into someone else’s bloodstream. All you have to do is roll up your sleeves and wait for it to happen. At times you felt so lonely you could stand at the edge of a cliff with nothing beneath you but air and grass and a long, long way down, and you’d still feel emptier than that canyon itself. Maybe you even danced with yourself alone in your room a few times, arms outstretched around a ghost, pretending someone else’s hands were on your waist, someone else’s eyes boring into yours. Or maybe you fell temporarily in love with strangers on public transportation, fell in love with anybody who so much as accidentally brushed your hand on the way past. For you, falling in love with dozens of people a day was a coping mechanism for not having anyone to love you in return. But people are not eggs and falling in love with a dozen of them does not mean your shell will remain uncracked. One day you’re going to hit the point where you’re so desperate for human contact that you’re going to snap in half and all your love will bleed out like egg yolk. But someone out there is eating a bowl of Ramen noodles right now, or putting on slippers, or settling into bed. They are doing all the normal things that you’ve done in your own life. They are just like you. They have cellulite and extra fat in all the wrong places and goals and fears and doubts and bad handwriting. The truth is that they are just like you, and being just like you, they’re looking for a lover too. They’re what you might call a soulmate. They think they’re all alone in feeling the way they do, but you’re really both two halves of a whole. And one day you’ll meet them, bump into them on the street, and your two halves will be put together, and you’ll make one.”

— Writings For Winter - For Twenty Year-Olds who have never been loved  (via beepboopboopbeep)

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CATCHITECTURE

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christopher citro, “our beautiful life when it’s filled with shrieks” / @inkskinned‘s poem about love between women

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be gentle