you're far from home


deal with it


deal with it

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

You don’t stop all these feelings. You should feel devastated. Your heart should feel shattered. That’s how you can tell you were really in love, that you’re really alive, and you’re really a human being. It’s also how you can tell that you really allowed yourself to be truly open and intimate with someone else. Many people can’t handle the pain of really loving and caring about someone else, so they avoid intense relationships and the vulnerability that comes with them. You should take pride in the fact that you’ve been strong enough to be weak. The strongest people have the capacity to really let themselves feel. Sure, it hurts. But it’s also how you got to experience all those wonderful feelings too. Don’t let the pain trick you into closing your heart to the world and the future.

Andrew W.K., Ask Andrew W.K.: How to Get Over a Devastating Breakup (via markdelabeast)

(Source: adultgaywad)


can’t decide if it’s coincidence or completely intentional that you fuck off on me after i lose my job since that obviously means i can’t pay for you anymore. you’re a great fucking catch, thanks for wasting 9 months of my life assface.

can’t decide if it’s coincidence or completely intentional that you call me again after almost a year of separation and say those damned things like “i want to stay with you” when you just started your second job leaving literally zero time for anything. and also, it’s not like i get a say in whether we’re together or not. a year on, a year off. that’s a healthy pattern for us…….. fucker.

all men are goons.




Baby otter



i… have no words….


this my new pickup line


this my new pickup line

(Source: yn0s)

nipsandtucks truest of loves {

nipsandtucks truest of loves

(Source: battlestarrgalactica)

fighting every god damn urge i have to not text this god damn motherfucker because why? because i’m 25 and these bullshit mindfucks and these bullshit games still exist because men and women are an illusion if you’re in your 20’s and single.


How is everyone doing out there? I miss you all very much.

I’ve been using the momentum you guys have given me to shoot for the stars. Miles to go~. This year needs to be the most electric year for all of us thus far. Lets do big things; lets move a mountain. Lets wake up humble and hungry every…

dying because i’m still 13.


if you’re looking for something substantial, don’t go to the bar.


Miguel - Simple Things

bout it.

you’re welcome

that phrase is probably my least favorite phrase in a really long time, i’ve discovered. this is why.

i understand i am doing nice things for you. or maybe you have been doing nice things for me. but if i’m being nice, which is 99.9% of the time, and you thank me, that makes me feel good. i would never say “you’re welcome” because what the fuck? what makes me feel entitled to saying “you’re welcome”? to me, that sounds like, “yeah i know i did something nice for you, asshole, so remember it for the next time.” my response is always, “not a problem.” because guess what dickhead, it was never a problem. doing something “nice” is in my nature, and should be for everyone on the goddamn planet’s as well. “you’re welcome”? suck my dick. so you did a nice thing. maybe a completely selfless thing. to me, it just sounds like “yeah remember that for when i need something from you.” and guess what, asshole? i would still do *for the most part* anything you asked me to out of the goodness of my god damn heart, not because i felt like i fucking owed you shit.

so fuck you and your “you’re welcome”…..
//i’m rambling because anything i’m dealing with now is too real to discuss at the moment. i’m sorry, internet.

it’s been so long, i don’t even understand how to use tumblr anymore.
scratch that//// i don’t even understand how half of social media even works anymore. where do i get my notifications at, son? twitter. that shit at least stays semi-consistent. but what kinda simpin’ ass hoe you take me for, like i can actually virtually follow about three hundred people in a day? like ALL day?
nah, just playin’, you know i done that before.