(via katieoftara)


ermathursty:

Saw this tip jar at my Dairy Queen today and lost it at tipiosa.

ermathursty:

Saw this tip jar at my Dairy Queen today and lost it at tipiosa.

(via katieoftara)


didney-worl-no-uta:

The life of Gordon Ramsay isn’t an easy one

I pray to the patron saint Gordon Ramsay

(via polkadotpudding)


masqverades:

do you ever get so disgusted with yourself, like you can not believe how stupid and thoughtless you are and it’s so frustrating because you keep telling yourself that you’ll do better next time but then next time rolls around and the same thing keeps happening and you end up in this pattern of mediocrity. 

(via goldberryingly)



petitepasserine:

white women of hollywood, reducing japan and japanese culture to cupcakes, sexy ”costumes” and submissive sex-kittens since god knows when

1. This (“Hello Kitty”) may be one of the worst songs I have ever heard

2. ALL OF HER DANCERS LOOK SO UNCOMFORTABLE LOOK AT THEIR FACES


Reblog if you’re bored and you want anons.

image

Or non anons, whatever lifts your skirt

(via notsosubtlegamer)


I think we still live in a culture that assumes that men are single by choice and women are single because no one wants them.

Depression is hard to understand, because it is not a consistent state. Depression is rather like a virus, but like a virus, it has its manageable days and its acute, life-threatening flare-ups. You can be in a depression and still laugh at a friend’s joke or have a good night at dinner or manage low-level functioning. You grocery shop and stop to pet a puppy on the corner, talk to friends in a café, maybe write something you don’t hate. When this happens, you might examine your day for clues like reading tea leaves in a cup: Was it the egg for breakfast that made the difference? The three-mile run? You think, well, maybe this thing has moved on now. And you make no sudden moves for fear of attracting its abusive attention again.

But other times…

Other times, it’s as if a hole is opening inside you, wider and wider, pressing against your lungs, pushing your internal organs into unnatural places, and you cannot draw a true breath. You are breaking inside, slowly, and everything that keeps you tethered to your life, all of your normal responses, is being sucked through the hole like an airlock emptying into space. These are the times Holly Golightly called the Mean Reds.

I call it White Knuckling it.

Miles and Miles of No Man’s Land, Libba Bray (via babybirched)

"But the stigma of depression is that it comes with the sense that you shouldn’t have it to begin with. That it is self-indulgence or emotional incompetence rather than actual illness."

(via sonchorizos)

whoa.

(via keeperofthehouse)

When it’s White Knuckle Time, you will have to remind yourself to stand in the middle of the subway platform, well away from the edge.”

There is an undertow to depression. It doesn’t take you all at once. It leaves you with some false sense that you are coping. That you are in control. That you have the shore still well in sight, until, at some point, you raise your head to find yourself all alone, battered by rough seas with absolutely no idea which way you should swim.”

 

Jesus, every damn word of this post. It’s remarkable.

(via foulmouthedliberty)

(via draumhaf)