I don’t give a fuck about Netflix!!
I’m here to get nutted in. I’m a grown ass woman.
Put it in.
I don’t give a fuck about Netflix!!
I’m here to get nutted in. I’m a grown ass woman.
Put it in.
It’s 1:11am and I’m up breastfeeding for the 3rd time
Don’t fuckin listen to me. Just watch the movie
Life comes at you fast
“I cried to God about it because I couldn’t explain it to anyone else.”
— (via xlifeincolourxxx)
I’ve become so conscious of the fact that this life is the only chance I’ll get to experience what I am experiencing, to live the life that I’m living. I’m not sure what will come after. I’m not sure if that excites me or frightens me.
All I know is that when I look at my family, or my best friend or at the man that I love, I think about the fact that this is the one and only time I will ever be me and they will be the people I love. My mom will only be my mom for this designated amount of time, my best friend will only be my best friend in this life, and the love between me and the man of my heart will cease to exist in a matter of decades. One day we will all just be corpses decaying in the ground, serving our last purpose as nourishment for the earth.
I’m no longer interested in knowing if we are here for a reason or if our presence on earth is meaningless. I think there is beauty is simply existing for the sake of existing, and living a life you love.
It’s so fucking weird being a human and doing the things we do. Drugs, love, sex, money: all things that we use to try to alleviate pain, to enjoy life, to feel good (or to feel anything at all.)
I know that, at my lowest, I can’t feel a thing. I can’t cry, I don’t feel anger, I don’t have desires nor do I care about anything. Even with the pain I feel at this moment, at how short life is and how unfair it is sometimes for life to not give you what you so badly want, I would choose this over the former. I would choose this a million times because being a human in pain is always going to be more bearable than to feel nothing at all.
“Never forget that life is a blessing. A rare opportunity. When the illusion seems real, look up at the sun and remember who you are. Remember what it is within you. And in this, be joyful.”
— Robert Adams
It’s difficult to find the words sometimes. I feel them in my heart and in my mind but it seems like they’re stuck there, just taking up space and making me feel like my chest is about to burst. My only relief is to write.
I guess what I want to say is that i didn’t know how rare you were until I met the others. I didn’t know most men weren’t like you. I wish I did. How lucky was I to find someone like you so young? The only problem is that now it feels like nobody even comes close to you. Every time I feel like they do, they do something that shows me otherwise.
How is it that I’ve been in 5 cities over two continents/ 3 regions this year and I can’t find you anywhere? How is it that the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had was with someone from the shithole city I was trying to escape from? I met you 4 months before I left my hometown. I spent 19 years in that place and I found the only good thing about it 4 months before I left. I know it was for a reason but I’ll never understand why it had to happen that way. And why it had to end up like this.
I was 18 when I met you. I’m 22 now.
“Does grief exceed words, or is it the other way around? How do you give voice to the animal howling inside of you?”
— John Yau, from “Muriel Leung Wants to Remember the Color of Her Blood,” published in Hyperallergic (via lifeinpoetry)
