(by sloomyhead)
My name is Sally and I’m 20 years old. I like sleeping, eating, cats, teeth, watching movies, nikon d500, serial killers, candles, bubble-tea, being bleach blonde, juicing, laying out and being tan, shopping, fisheye, river adventures, Manda Sesko, family, carbohydrates, cuddle puddles, pills, partyin' hard, Conor Oberst, my kindle, pottery, green tea, feminism, summer, smoking crack, worshiping Satan, juicing, loungin' all day long, coffee, JEEPLIFE, getting by, and other crazy stuff you don't even know about. Comfortably numb. Stressed, depressed, but well dressed.
TWITTER / FLICKR / ASK
☼☼☼☼☼
TWITTER / FLICKR / ASK
☼☼☼☼☼
Getting treated like absolute shit by someone who used to care about you. I wonder who I knew, if at all, because I’ve seen such opposite sides. I try and take comfort in knowing that even though I’ve lost, a lot of things, I’ve seen the ugly part and can recognize it now. I’m still suffering and every day is a challenge but I can try and believe that maybe things will be better one day. It’s hard to believe that there is someone out there that will stick around no matter how rough things get but it must be possible. I can’t wait for it. I’m ready to see how much better things can be. I’m ready to not cry every day. I’m ready to be strong enough to go back to school and move out this summer in to the city to experience life on my own. I’m ready to not be on fifty different medications. I’m ready to not be in therapy twice a week trying to recover from the damage. I just want time to move more quickly so I can get to the good part and past what I’m living in now.
“Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.”
— Ray Bradbury (via perfect)
(via suicidalcat)
