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Today is an asshole.

I didn’t sleep last night and I somehow managed to finish my paper at 12:15 this afternoon and then my car started to break down in the middle of the road but I somehow managed to get it to the shop and then I was late for my class so I took my dad’s car and sped to school and ran into the classroom and no one was there so I called my professor and started uncontrollably apologizing and she laughed and said it was okay and that I can still hand in my paper and now I’m home and my house is clean and my sheets are washed and I can’t see balance and composure tonight but it’s okay because Pennsylvania in 3 days.

And all I could think about was if he was with me he would have freaked out on me at one point, and I thought about that on my drive home and I rolled down the windows and stopped caring and remembered that’s not my life anymore and I’m happier now.




❝ “For what it’s worth: it’s never too late to be whoever you want to be. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald



procrastination

  • 11:00 am: okay I have to write this paper by 1pm tomorrow or this semester was a waste
  • adderall will help. yes. okay. 
  • i need to clean. everything. 
  • 12:00 pm: okay my bed is made. time to sit down and start this bitch
  • are those fingerprints on my computer screen? 
  • i literally need to stop fucking around and do this
  • 2 minute rule. alright. this isn’t so bad
  • wow my dog is annoying the fuck out of me right now
  • i’m going to the library, i cant deal with this nonsense.
  • but i need to look gorgeous in case i meet the love of my life
  • 2:00 pm: FUCK YES I GET TO DRIVE DADS CAR
  • let me take the long way to school and purposely not pay attention and stop for red bull in case my adderall starts to wear off so i can feel cool driving this car a little longer
  • 3:00 pm: *parks at library* no excuses. this paper is getting done now.
  • 5:30 pm: moms making dinner gtg
  • 9:00 pm: i need more adderall but do i want to be up all night?
  • 10:00 pm: yes okay 14 hours to go
  • i need to dermaplane my face
  • 11:30 pm: I wonder if that french guy I dated was a gypsy?
  • romani… 
  • ROMANO
  • OH FUCK DO I HAVE GYPSY BLOOD
  • what does elucidate mean?
  • why is my co-worker talking to me on Facebook (for the first time, no less) about self mutilation?
  • why is this paper not writing its fucking self
  • i should make a list

I have T-MINUS 11:58:42 until this paper is fucking due. 




The Things I Do To Keep From Thinking Of You

I lay in bed and count to 100, and then once I get there, I count down back to one. I do this over and over until I fall asleep, because it keeps my mind from wandering. When I wake up, my mind automatically goes to you, not because I want it to, but because I can’t help it. Instead, I force myself to get up, and I shower and I take extra time washing my body, slowly scrubbing every inch, because I heard once that after about 35 days, skin renews itself, and I heard that the process is sped up if you scrub hard enough. I want to be new again, something you’ve never touched, so I do that every morning instead of thinking of you.

I always say yes whenever anyone asks me to hang out, because maybe it’ll be a good distraction, and maybe it’ll help me to forget. I sit in the back seat usually, with the window down, and I let the breeze whip my hair around, and I sing too loudly along with the music, and I laugh and I smile because sometimes, that’s what you need. Sometimes, all it takes is a good drive by the beach with the windows down to make the pain disappear. Sometimes it takes a cross-country road trip. Sometimes even that doesn’t help. Sometimes I feel like I could drive from New York to California and back three times and I’d still feel crippled by the pain that comes when I think of you.

I go on long walks around campus when I start to feel trapped by the walls of my dorm. The walls are decorated and fun and colorful, but my eyes are drawn to the empty spots where pictures of us used to hang. I stare at those empty spaces and I think of you and so I stop myself by walking through campus. I usually end up at the café, and I spend money I don’t have on what’s usually my third cup of coffee of the day — that’s another I thing I do instead of think of you — and I sit by the window, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, and I stare out at the quad and I think of how beautiful it’ll start to look soon, when the trees start to bloom.

I drink too much coffee and I eat too much. Food is my drug of choice; when I’m eating, I concentrate on the flavor of the food and nothing else. I drink cup after cup of coffee, thankful for the many different places scattered throughout campus where I can get ahold of coffee at almost any hour of the day, and I pray to my roommate’s Keurig for those few hours when I can’t. I drink too much coffee because when I’m drinking it, I don’t think of you.

I spend a lot of time surrounded by other people. Sometimes, it’s nice to look around a room full of strangers, people you know nothing about, and know that everyone is going through their own personal battles. It’s interesting to think that what seems like the end of the world to me can be a laughable matter to someone else.

I tend to spend nights in bed with my roommate — I don’t do it on purpose, but I usually end up there. We spend half the night talking and the other half sleeping, and I always fall asleep with a smile on my face because I’m not alone and I’m not thinking of you.

I also spend a lot of time contemplating the idea of love and what it really means, and sometimes, I get confused and convince myself that it doesn’t exist, kind of like when you say a word over and over again until it loses all meaning. I think that’s what happened. You said it over and over again until it lost all its meaning. But I don’t think about that, I think of the concept because the concept effects the entire population of the world, not just you and me. So I think of the concept of love and how bizarre it is.

I do little things every day to keep myself from thinking of you; I go out of my way to avoid spots where we spent time together and I often waste time to ensure our paths won’t cross.

These are not things I necessarily like to do, but they are the things I have to do in order to forget about you.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/elissa-sanci/2014/04/the-things-i-do-to-keep-from-thinking-about-you/




neon-vagina:

me right now




the-time-goddess-of-221b:

smoochlock:

so my mum told me that as a kid she would peel an apple and throw the peel over her shoulder, and the peel would take the shape of the first letter of her future spouse. naturally, i decided to do it and

image

i’m fucking crying 

it says ‘no.’

it literally says NO.

oh my god













realitytvgifs:

me sexting

realitytvgifs:

me sexting




i fixed my archives link

SO HAVE AT IT CREEPERS. there’s like 4 years worth of it on this.




hyperspectrum:

i just found deez

throw back tuesday. holy crap that lip ring.

hyperspectrum:

i just found deez

throw back tuesday. holy crap that lip ring.




ARTIST: Chvrches;
ALBUM: The Bones of What You Believe (Deluxe Version);
TRACK:Lies;
PLAYED: 26 times.

Icon of symmetry, swallowing sides
Fall down in front of me, follow my eyes
But I’ve got to see you moving, waste no time
Teach me, make me holy




It’s my day off so




i will never allow myself to love as I have before. this is taking too much out of me and it is taking too long for me to get over this. 

never fucking again.