my songs have vague suspicions about what you did in the dark
let’s precariously light these objects up
i am moderately aflame
I feel like I just need a good cry. Ever felt that way? Nothing in particular has happened that very moment, but it’s all been building up, and you’re sick if carrying it all, and you just want it to stop for 10 seconds so you can breathe, and you just want to be a regular person…
Guess I’ll try to sleep and hope tomorrow morning this all magically disappeared.
I could have used this information over the last 29 years of my life
My mom taught me to pack like this and she gets mad when I come to visit and sees that I don’t use it.
I need to remember this for uniforms.
Oh my god, I am learning this ASAP. HOW DID I NOT KNOW OF THIS BEFORE?!
if i catch you glancing at me more than twice i will automatically think you like me so please don’t look at me ever
This is how to run a stick of Chapstick
down the black boxes on your scantron
so the grading machine skips the wrong
answers. This is how to honor roll. Hell,
this is how to National Honor Society.
This is being voted “Most Likely to Marry
for Money” or “Talks the Most, Says the
Least” for senior superlatives. This is
stepping around the kids having panic
attacks in the hallway. This is being the
kid having a panic attack in the hallway.
This is making the A with purple moons
stamped under both eyes. We had to try.
This is telling the ACT supervisor you have
ADHD to get extra time. Today, the average
high school student has the same anxiety
levels as the average 1950’s psychiatric
patient. We know the Pythagorean theorem
by heart, but short-circuit when asked
“How are you?” We don’t know. We don’t
know. That wasn’t on the study guide.
We usually know the answer, but rarely
You know that type of laughter that starts off as a small chuckle but kinda builds up inside your throat, eventually mounting into a full blown, bent over yourself, holding your stomach as you guffaw uproariously?
this should be a sculpture about the human condition entitled ‘Unbridled Optimism Meets An Uncaring Universe’
There are photos that tell a story, then there are photos that tell a story.
Hold their hand and then never touch their skin again,
See them nearly everyday and pretend they don’t exist,
Act like everything you ever said to them was a lie.
i finally got it into words but i hope you never read this
john green have had enough of your shit
I guess now that this has 213,000 notes, it should be mentioned that I never tweeted this (or thought it). Someone somewhere created this using photoshop.
Or, you know, you could just stop saying sorry.
I take it you don’t have anxiety.
You can’t “just stop saying sorry”. You do something, something so little, like accidentally bump into someone. You feel horrible about it. Your brain starts panicking and you have trouble trying to breathe. You stutter an apology. They say it’s okay, but you accidentally do it again, and you apologize again. They just say “Aha, you can stop saying sorry.” And you feel horrible that you’ve probably made them angry or upset, so you mutter out an apology for the third stupid time, and they just say to stop saying sorry. Stop saying sorry.
You can’t just tell someone to stop saying you’re sorry.
I want that comment on flyers so I can hang them in my school
An accurate representation of therapy.
you ever wanna fuck the living shit outta somebody but also cook for them and make sure they’re emotionally stable?