'ayyy I got dope'
no you don’t, you have weed. go away
Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody is fucking happy. Nobody has skin made from oil paint and sunlight. Nobody fucking understands this world. Fuck, nobody probably understands math as much as they claim. You’re here one day and the next you’re not. God? Religion? I’ve learned a lot more about the world by eating acid and swallowing pills. Tell me what your church has done for you? Tell me if you have holes in your mouth from speaking lies? Wanna know the fucking truth? Pity is just another word for pathetic. Drink beer and watch the sunrise from every rooftop. Take photographs naked. Take photographs kissing. Take photographs having sex. Stop making everything about sexuality. Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody really gives a damn if you lost your virginity at fourteen or if you were the president in high school. Wanna know the fucking truth? There is no such thing as the right person. People leave. They change like ocean currents, they leave you with bruises in your calves. And you wanna know the fucking truth? You get better. You learn to love. You find God in between the cracks of a wall when you’re puking your limbs out. You wanna know the fucking truth? Go find it.
'ayyy I got dope'
no you don’t, you have weed. go away
I don’t read as much as I used to. I don’t draw as much as I used to.
I don’t even play video games as much as I used to.
I have no idea what I do.
If you want sex, have sex.
Have sex with a person who wants to have sex with you and have it when both of you want it.
Don’t plan it. Don’t delay it. Don’t suppress it.
Don’t perform it. Have it.
Stop caring about whether you’ve shaved or not.
Or whether there’s a zit on your back you wanted to get rid of before the person you desire sees you in the nude.
Stop worrying about the taste the garlic bread you had for lunch left in your mouth or the sound of the moans you can’t keep in when they touch your sweaty body.
Stop worrying about how that body looks to you in the mirror. It’s not what they see.Turn off the movie that’s playing in your head and switch to reality. If you want this to be art so badly, see it as the most colorful painting there ever was. Dashes of paint in lust black and sperm white and bruise blue and blood red and labia pink on a canvas made of human skin, in a broken frame of shaky bones. There is no perfection in sex. None in you. None in them.
You’re not acting out a scene from a goddamn novel. You’re writing your own.
You’re not looking for flawlessness, you’re looking for pleasure.
You’re a driven, instinctive, hungry being, not the lie of softness and beauty around it.Feel them, don’t gaze.
Move intuitively, not predicted.
Laugh if you have to, stop if you need to.
Be safe, but not mentally.
Devour the moment and let go.
why do i have a feeling it’s going to be a very depressing and ice filled winter..
SHOUT OUT TO EVERYONE WHO STILL TRIES TO GET BACK INTO THE SWING OF THINGS AFTER DEPRESSION HIT THEM HARD. THERE ISN’T ENOUGH RECOGNITION FOR THOSE PEOPLE WHO KNOW THAT THEY’RE GOING TO LOSE INTEREST AND MOTIVATION AGAIN BUT PUSH THEMSELVES TO DO STUFF ANYWAYS. YOU ARE FIGHTING A DAILY BATTLE WITH YOUR OWN THOUGHTS AND YOU’RE STILL COMING OUT ON TOP, YOU’RE ALL BRAVE AS FUCK
Does anyone else reply to a text mentally but not physically then forgets to actually reply all together or is that just me
Often.
