You sought me out, you couldn’t resist how I turned poison into poise

I cradled you like a bird that had fallen out of the nest

Did you forget how we silenced all of the noise?

Within our head, through out the world that doesn’t rest

There was a solitude in one another’s presence

How the roof caved in… the walls collapsed & crumbled into dust

Evaporated into nothing, you were gone, I stood there, open arms as my tendence

I took you seriously, you just played for lust

I painted you so sweetly, yet you smeared the facade

I became entangled in your pretension

I saw you unraveling, the distance you put between us, I was unable to prod

I became lost pursuing your careless intention

In Dallas  -  Detroit Red Wings  -  The Winged Wheel  -  January 2021

Peugeot Motorboat Car, 1925. A show car that was designed to promote Peugeot's engines for maritime use rather than being itself amphibious. It was simply a boat-like body on a car chassis

source

Gold and carnelian signet ring, Europe, possibly Italy, 17th century

from Artemis Gallery

Sunset at the beach

www.instagram.com/officialnatalina

you don’t know what your pet named you

Sometimes you gotta sit and admire yourself because the world will really having you thinking that your not good enough.

I came across this comment and thought it explained depression and mental illness so perfectly. I wanted to share.

i think this is my favorite interaction in tng

edit 🍑

Hooollllyyy fuck. Everyday I still crazily hope, but it gets harder as time goes on. I really fucking hate men. Sat here on my phone till 2pm went to the vineyard dropped $50 went to Applebee’s dropped $70. I say I keep getting notifications on ig saying they are deleted and I can’t see them. “Prolly one of your bfs” a phrase I hear everyday yet it pisses me off more and more everytime.

I rub him; he won’t look at me. I call him sexy handsome baby but I don’t even get a blink of an eye for acknowledgment. I am about to be 26 and I’m thirsty for someone that wants to touch my skin as much as I wanna touch theirs. No matter what, I’m gone in 7 days. Too long yet too little of time. “You’re always on your phone” like 2-6pm when you’re awake I am supposed to pay you 100% attention. But the other 20 hrs of my day I SIT ON MY PHONE WAITING FOR YOU TO WAKE UP, like the 4 hrs I am so blessed to fucking have with you, makes a fucking difference? While It’s takes you a full fucking hr of me wiping your ass while you shit on my hand to stop and stand up from the shitter. I am disgusted. You make me sick, you make me angry. I haven’t changed my face from completely, utterly disappointed since the first letter I wrote onto here. MY SOUL HAS BEEN SO SAD I FORGOT HOW HAPPY I AM TO TO BE ALIVE. I hate you, I hate that I’m here, I hate that I sit here until you pick me up from the dusty bookshelf to play with me again. I am disgusted in myself. I hate myself. To love someone like this so much. To pull back blanket after blanket to see a LYING, MANIPULATIVE, PETTY PIECE OF TRASH LAYING THERE. You’d never guess what I did in the woods today. All I do is freely counsel my friends and family all day. Sitting in my skin you made so fucking uncomfortable to sit in. I take my friend home, pick her kids up, feed her baby a bottle and put him to bed. While I get mssgs of how SHHHIIITTTYYYY I AM of a human. Ft you to watch you stare into a screen w your mouth open wide enough for flies to fly into freely, and I nurse a baby to sleep. I let you fuck me and cum in me like I’d be honored to carry, birth and raise your baby, for you to fight w me everyday. The first night I’m here you leave me to play video games, yet 11am-2pm if I leave to wake up to not waste sunshine and drink coffee with your sister, you act like a total dick. Tell me you’re leaving bc I’m not ready yet or showered for the day. While your sister cries to me about the deep wounds only the pages of her diary should hear, and I leave her to come catering to your ungrateful ass. I coddle you; baby you. Enable you. Until I am angry of it. Layer after layer I find out who you are. The lies you told me and the smudges you perfected to hide the blemishes of your perfect mural. I hate the person you made me, I am scared of the person you made me. The bump, I must digest everyday to get off. It’s you. And just like any dirty drug, I hate myself for it. I shit in the woods today bc you’re in a house w one working toilet. That sits at your sisters head w nothing but a sheet. Hiding me from her and John laying in their bed. Had I of thought about myself when I met you, instead of yourself, would I classily be able to respect myself. And expect something more of myself. Yet here I sit at your level waiting again for you to wake up. For what? To be high and low. You are a disgusting, dirty drug you painted bright and innocent. I hate myself for mistaking your trickery for love.