Things I am

  • a third wheel
  • unwanted
  • unneeded
  • unintelligent
  • fat
  • ugly

but that doesn’t matter.


I want everything to end. I don’t want to be here. Kill me.


I want everything to end. I don’t want to be here. Kill me.

They call you heartless; but you have a heart and I love you for being ashamed to show it.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra  (via feellng)

Here’s what I’ve got, the reasons why our marriage
might work: Because you wear pink but write poems
about bullets and gravestones. Because you yell
at your keys when you lose them, and laugh,
loudly, at your own jokes. Because you can hold a pistol,
gut a pig. Because you memorize songs, even commercials
from thirty years back and sing them when vacuuming.
You have soft hands. Because when we moved, the contents
of what you packed were written inside the boxes.
Because you think swans are overrated.
Because you drove me to the train station. You drove me
to Minneapolis. You drove me to Providence.
Because you underline everything you read, and circle
the things you think are important, and put stars next
to the things you think I should think are important,
and write notes in the margins about all the people
you’re mad at and my name almost never appears there.
Because you make that pork recipe you found
in the Frida Kahlo Cookbook. Because when you read
that essay about Rilke, you underlined the whole thing
except the part where Rilke says love means to deny the self
and to be consumed in flames. Because when the lights
are off, the curtains drawn, and an additional sheet is nailed
over the windows, you still believe someone outside
can see you. And one day five summers ago,
when you couldn’t put gas in your car, when your fridge
was so empty—not even leftovers or condiments—
there was a single twenty-ounce bottle of Mountain Dew,
which you paid for with your last damn dime
because you once overheard me say that I liked it.
Matthew Olzmann, Mountain Dew Commercial Disguised as a Love Poem  (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(via till-forever-finds-me)



Girls who don’t receive romantic/sexual attention from boys blame themselves

Boys who don’t receive romantic/sexual attention from girls blame girls


(via coldstoneslover)

My relationship with my followers

Me: ask me anything guys, nothing is off the limits.
Me: okay, I'll just reblog some pictures.

You already fell into the rabbit hole darling. Now you chose if you want to keep falling or go to wonderland.

I thought I was better now.
        Six Word Story #117 (via leftoverword)