I feel so strange nowadays.

I feel like I have so much to express and I have no outlet for it all then I remembered my tumblr and thought “how could I forget my tumblr?!”

I am in a very simple situation but I have complicated it for myself because I overthink and make things awkward.

I feel like I have been thrown to the sharks and if feel confused and lonely sometimes.

I feel like I have put myself in the kind of situations so promised myself I would never find myself in again.

I feel like I’m being fucked over, pardon my language but I feel like I’m being taken advantage of in the terms of my trusting nature.

I feel like I’m at the hands of someone, I feel like I’m at the hands of fate as well. I feel like I am so alone sometimes.

I feel like I am surrounded by the simple minded.

I feel like I am excluded.

I feel like I’m being passed about and toyed with.

I feel kind of worthless.

myheartonlybeatsforyou:


One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth. 
I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.
Zoom Info
myheartonlybeatsforyou:


One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth. 
I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.
Zoom Info
myheartonlybeatsforyou:


One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth. 
I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.
Zoom Info
myheartonlybeatsforyou:


One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth. 
I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.
Zoom Info

myheartonlybeatsforyou:

One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth.

I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.