My thing is, have sex whenever you decide to want to have sex. You want to have sex on the first night, go ahead. You want to have sex after 20 dates, go ahead. You want to never have sex, go ahead. People think that someone’s sexual choices actually coincide with their personality. If all you can think of someone’s worth is whether they want to have sex or not, then the problem is probably you.
u know what the worst thing about being a girl is… is when another girl asks u for a hair tie, but its ur last one, but u can’t say u don’t have one because she knows its on ur wrist, so u give it to her, and then she says “oh i’ll give it back!” knowing damn well she won’t, and u sit there sad because now you have to go buy another pack of hair ties that u know ur gonna lose by the end of the month
when someone on tumblr perfectly captures what i have in mind
My older brother received a call at two pm on a Thursday,
That his roommate from college
And best friend from high school;
Overdosed and died,
Last Wednesday night.
My brother is 25 years old.
He missed three days of work, sat at home in the dark,
And cried for the first time in six months.
This is not poetry.
My father is very, very sick.
He sleeps for seven hours,
To build up a half hour of strength,
Just so he can pick me up from school.
He hasn’t been well in over a year.
He prays every night, “Thank you God, for making this happen to me, and not my children.”
I am swallowed in fear,
That soon enough, he will go to bed,
And never wake up.
This is not poetry.
There are thousands of people,
just to have one more day,
In hopes that it will get better.
You people glorify sadness,
and long for your death,
because apparently life,
is just too much of a burden.
Wake up, your ignorance is sickening.
Your life is thousands of times more beautiful,
Than your death will be.
:) It’s not about the ability to make a child.
My taste in music ranges from “you need to listen to this” to “I know, please don’t judge me.”
I hate that feeling. When you randomly feel depressed. There is no warning, no apparent reason. It just happens. You feel empty, and you feel hopeless. And you just feel tired. As if you never want to move again. Then when someone asks you what’s wrong, you can’t say because there is nothing that comes to mind. Then you start thinking of what it could be, and you realize just how much is wrong. You know that feeling? Yeah, it sucks.
Frances Hodgson Burnett