September 2011
74 posts
When you come across a pen that writes absolutely beautifully and smoothly. →
10knotes.1000notes.com
You’re like:
and then when you lose it you’re like:
Accurate.
Submitted by
I am so done being sad over you. I'm moving on, and I'm not ever gonna let myself go back. I'm fine how I am, flaws and all.
So you want to kill yourself? Because no one cares about you. Your family hates you. Right? Wrong. Your parents walking in your room in the morning to only find a dead body. They’ll try their hardest to not think negative, and to just think that you’re fooling around. Then they’ll start shaking you. Why aren’t you breathing? They’ll be broken. Tears. Many tears. More tears than you ever shed. Was it them? Were they the reason you did this? More tears. Pain. Every day. Every night. Every single second of every day. Guilt. More guilt. What about your bestfriends? They’re not going to care. Right? No. What’s the first thing that will go through their mind when your principal comes in and tells the class that you’re not alive. While your bestfriend sits there in tears. That girl that you’d smile at but never talk to? She’s now crying. The boy who used to kick you under the table just to annoy you? He’ll be shocked. He’ll be devastated. He’ll blame himself. What about your teacher? Thoughts crossing her mind. She’ll question if you did it because she didn’t make school comfortable enough for you. Pain. Devastation. All in one. Who organises your funeral? Who has to go through your stuff? Clothes? Notes? Those few older girls who used to give you daggers at school? They’ll feel regret. They’ll blame themselves. See, if you killed yourself today, you’ll never know what might of happened tomorrow. You’ll never know because you’re dead. Plain dead. Not breathing. Not alive. Just dead. Your family hates themselves for it. Your bestfriend then falls into depression. Tears. Tears. More tears than a river. All because you killed yourself because you thought noone would care. Right? You are loved. By many. Someone right now is thinking of you. And right now, I’m thinking about anyone who has thought or is considering suicide. You are beautiful. No matter if you’re black, white, homo-sexual, tall, short, overweight or anorexic. You are beautiful. You want to kill yourself? Think about it first. There’s no coming back. And I promise, if you do it, you are not only hurting yourself, you are hurting many. You are creating more tears than you led yourself to. You are making everyone miserable and making them all feel guilt and pain. Never will they feel whole like they used to when they had you. You are beautiful. And you are never ever alone.
I don't know what's more awkward, answering Dora, or sitting in silence while she stares at you.
When you rearrange the letters in the word 'ASTRONOMER', you get 'MOON STARER'.
Same goes for DESPERATION = A ROPE ENDS IT,
THE EYES = THEY SEE,
THE MORSE CODE = HERE COME DOTS,
DORMITORY = DIRTY ROOM,
SLOT MACHINES = CASH LOST IN ME,
ELECTION RESULTS = LIES - LET’S RECOUNT,
SNOOZE ALARMS = ALAS! NO MORE Z’S
THE EARTHQUAKES = THAT QUEER SHAKE,
ELEVEN PLUS TWO = TWELVE PLUS ONE
and
MOTHER-IN-LAW = WOMAN HITLER.
Submitted by
“Yet ah, why should they know their fate
Since sorrow never comes too late
And happiness too quickly flies.
Thought would destroy their paradise.
Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise.” —
Since sorrow never comes too late
And happiness too quickly flies.
Thought would destroy their paradise.
Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise.” —
“People say, ‘I’m going to sleep now,’ as if it were nothing. But it’s really a bizarre activity. ‘For the next several hours, while the sun is gone, I’m going to become unconscious, temporarily losing command over everything I know and understand. When the sun returns, I will resume my life. If you didn’t know what sleep was, and you had only seen it in a science fiction movie, you would think it was weird and tell all your friends about the movie you’d seen. They had these people, you know? And they would walk around all day and be OK? And then, once a day, usually after dark, they would lie down on these special platforms and become unconscious. They would stop functioning almost completely, except deep in their minds they would have adventures and experiences that were completely impossible in real life. As they lay there, completely vulnerable to their enemies, their only movements were to occasionally shift from one position to another; or, if one of the ‘mind adventures’ got too real, they would sit up and scream and be glad they weren’t unconscious anymore. Then they would drink a lot of coffee. So, next time you see someone sleeping, make believe you’re in a science fiction movie. And whisper, ‘The creature is regenerating itself.”
—George Carlin (via dingyfeathers)
previously on teen mom:
this week on teen mom:
next week on teen mom:
You told me you were different.
It’s my fault for believing you.
I've realized I have gotten sufficiently weirder and more awkward since joining Tumblr.
THIS
