Telling a truth you’ve been holding back is the most relieving thing though.
I love how I’m talking to this guy and half the time it’s me answering questions and feeling awkward butterflies
And the other half is making sex jokes.
I’m constantly torn between the ‘be kind to everyone’ and the ‘fuck everyone you owe them nothing’ mentalities
Is it possible to be excited as hell and simultaneously nervous as hell?
Because my stomach’s all butterflies and my brain’s doing its negative thing.
And everywhere else is just like, “Whoa, girl. BREATHE.”
Hello, 911? I’d like to report a murder.
Who’s been killed?
Oh, just my chances with this awesome guy.
I’m an idiot.
FOR THE FIRST FUCKING TIME A HAD A TOTALLY AWESOME DAY YESTERDAY.
AND NOW EVERYONE IS TRYING TO SHIT ON TODAY BECAUSE I GUESS I JUST CAN’T BE LEFT ALONE TO BE HAPPY FOR A LITTLE BIT.
I GUESS I’M JUST SUCH A HORRIBLE PERSON THAT I DON’T DESERVE IT.
Self-loathing is not a fucking character-builder. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t make you better. It’s just an ever-deepening, creepy-ass trap; a trap that is a huge moneymaker for corporations that do not have and never will have good intentions. You’re not disgusting. You’re not freakish. You’re not ugly. And you’re never going to be perfect. And holy shit, that is so okay. — Jane, Casual Blasphemies (via feministpraxis) (via beranyth, hunger-painsss) (via shrimpwonder) (via kamidoodles) (via renaissancedweeb) (via rubyvroom) (via pretzelquatyl) (via anhaga) (via star-anise) (via lemonsharks) (via deesarrachi) (via motellights)
I folded and texted.
Waiting impatiently for someone to come online.
Would texting them seem too desperate?
It’s early still. I should wait.