There’s an armed fugitive on my fucking street. Fucking police cars and snipers dear god.
I just wanted to pick up a fucking job application from Burger King.
4ft x 4ft
this is endlessly fascinating and somehow undoubtedly beautiful.
and some people were all complimenty and why do you never wear them but at the same time it really bothers me because i kind of want them to be like “oh no! look. wow. her. legs. too. thin”.
which is incredibly fucked up.
some kid who is like 11 and 4 and 1/2 stone was all omigggawd you need to gain some weight you’re so tiny what. ????? i don’t even understand. i have like 1 and 1/2 stone on her or something. and even though i’m 18 she’s not THAT much shorter than me.
i’m so confused why does this bother me i don’t even have an eating disorder.
I don’t know what the ship name for the two Lemongrabs is called
i’m bad at social interaction and 99.99% of the time i’m having a bad hair day and i mispronounce words and am incredibly mediocre in an extraordinarily dull way, but i did do okay in an exam once so that’s nice.
My worst fear is that all psychiatric drugs are secretly placebos and that I’m embarrassing myself by depending on them/feeling side effects and it’s all just a huge psychological experiment, aliens are going to take over the earth, etc. etc.
I’m too pale
I resemble a ghost
and my body is disgusting
no boy will ever love me because you can see my bones
and I’m not a real women
I’m not a child
I’m not real
It’s a Wednesday afternoon. I still haven’t changed out of my pajamas, I still haven’t brushed my teeth. I’ve consumed far too much caffeine, and my body still feels too heavy to move. I’m sitting on the kitchen counter, my moms making dinner, frying chicken in bacon grease. Vile. I’m cutting up mushrooms and I keep thinking about dragging the knife across my skin. I have no real desire to. I think this has been happening everyday for a year.
ive got my outfit picked out for hospital
shoes with no laces
and a notebook without spirals
i wont put anything around my neck
put a gun to my head
or jump from a building
im not going to kill myself
but if you give me pills i will take them all
and if you drive with me fast in your car
i wont ask you to slow down
i will puke up all my meals
and drink mouth wash until my heart is cold
smile through it all
dont worry though
i wont kill myself
but i dont care if i die
i like to say your name a lot until it doesn’t sound like a word anymore and i forget who you are.
i wonder how many cigarettes are in the gutter. i would throw the love note you wrote me in it too but im afraid my house would catch fire.
Shit shit shit what do I do it’s been nine months since my assessment appointment with the psychologist and she said the waiting list was about five months long so I just called to check what’s going on and the receptionist said she couldn’t find a card for me so she took my number and someone’s…
i’ve never had to wait for mental health services but this sounds really stressy icky and you don’t need this right now and i hope they sort this out. x
go home wiki. you’re drunk.
this is a thing.
feel free to look it up.
how i came across it is irrelevant.