My name is Sally and I’m 21 years old. I live in Richmond, Virginia and attend VCU. I like sleeping, eating, cats, teeth, watching movies, my nikon d500, incense, alcohol, candles, bubble-tea, dying my half shaved head, juicing, laying out and being tan, shopping, fisheye, river adventures, Manda Sesko, family, carbohydrates, cuddle puddles, pills, partyin' hard, Conor Oberst, my kindle, pottery, sweet tea, feminism, summer, smoking crack, worshiping Satan, juicing, loungin' all day long, iced coffee, JEEPLIFE, getting by, and other crazy stuff you don't even know about. Comfortably numb. Stressed, depressed, but well dressed.
Time does not heal all wounds. You know what heals wounds? Getting an actual explanation for why something happened. Being given the facts of why something happened so you can actually find resolve in your mind. I could have lived years longer feeling the same exact way, held down by the same exact sadness but then I got an explanation. This is why religion does not satisfy me. I can’t just sit and believe “it happened for a reason” or “it is out of your hands.” No, give me the reason! Put it in my fucking hands! When I find out the textbook reason for why something happened that is when my wound begins healing, and quickly. I need to be able to crush things in my hands, not let them run through my fingers.
4:17 am • 26 October 2013 • 2 notes
“No amount of love can cure madness or unblacken one’s dark moods. Love can help, it can make the pain more tolerable, but, always, one is beholden to medication that may or may not always work and may or may not be bearable.”
— Kay Redfield Jamison (via thechocolatebrigade)
2:53 am • 25 October 2013 • 121 notes