Close your eyes & clear your heart.

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If someone were to die at the age of 63 after a lifelong battle with MS or Sickle Cell, we’d all say they were a “fighter” or an “inspiration.” But when someone dies after a lifelong battle with severe mental illness and drug addiction, we say it was a tragedy and tell everyone “don’t be like him, please seek help.” That’s bullshit. Robin Williams sought help his entire life. He saw a psychiatrist. He quit drinking. He went to rehab. He did this for decades. That’s HOW he made it to 63. For some people, 63 is a fucking miracle. I know several people who didn’t make it past 23 and I’d do anything to have 40 more years with them.

-

anonymous reader on The Dish

One of the more helpful and insightful things I’ve seen about depression/suicide in the last couple of days.

(via mysweetetc)

You deserve the kind of love you would give someone else.

- A Message to My Followers and Everyone Else That Ever Reads This (#127: February 3, 2014)

(Source: write2014)

chili-jesson:

things i wish i could tell you part 4
drunk thoughts 
i’m sorry for being such a mess and saying all the wrong things but the darkness in my head was drowning me and i’m as bad at swimming as i am at everything else. 

chili-jesson:

things i wish i could tell you part 4

drunk thoughts 

i’m sorry for being such a mess and saying all the wrong things but the darkness in my head was drowning me and i’m as bad at swimming as i am at everything else. 

(Source: nayyirahwaheed)

claphne:

whenever I’m traveling i always get tripped out at the fact that this is someone’s actual hometown like they know every back road and how to get everywhere and they’ve probably had tons of memories in this city

but I’m just someone passing by
yolesoteldo:

Dear Cutie-Pie,
Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”
It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.
And I got angry.
Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”
Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)
If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.
Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be kept interested, because he knows you are interesting:
I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.
I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.
I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.
I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.
I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.
I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.
I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.
In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:
You.
Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.
Your eternally interested guy,
Daddy
Happy International Women’s Day

yolesoteldo:

Dear Cutie-Pie,

Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”

It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.

And I got angry.

Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”

Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)

If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.

Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be kept interested, because he knows you are interesting:

I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.

I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.

I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.

I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.

I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.

I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.

I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.

In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:

You.

Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.

Your eternally interested guy,

Daddy

Happy International Women’s Day

I’m starting to lose it again.

- Six Word Story by P.P. (via blindthoughts)

(Source: oceanflowerbird)

sex-tas-tic:

fucking richard hammond

sex-tas-tic:

fucking richard hammond

(Source: bd48)

lady-tromboss:

this hit me like a load of fucking bricks.

(Source: youtubenutcase)

I said I’d never write about you again,
but I suppose I’m just as good at lying
as I am at leaving.
I’ve forgotten what your voice sounds like.
I always criticized you for not letting go,
as if the weights around my ankles
weren’t made of my faults
and everything I wish I could take back.
You told me today that
you’ve found love again.
I hope he finds flowers growing
from all the cracks I created
in your heart.
I hope he sees galaxies
in the darkened voids
I left behind your eyes.
I hope he understands
that you are full of splintered doors
on rusted hinges
that need to be loved and not repaired.
I hope he is nothing like me.
I’m sorry my words left scars.
I’m sorry my silence
reopened them constantly.
I’m sorry I was too busy
loving myself,
instead of loving you.

- I’m sorry I did not know what love meant. (via chvnele)

(Source: christopherevan)

kushandwizdom:

Everything Teen

kushandwizdom:

Everything Teen

Don’t be slutty, don’t have sex. But be sexy. If you’re too sexy though and you get raped, then that’s you’re own fault because you’re not actually supposed to listen to us about being sexy, even though we tell you your value is derived from how sexy you are. If you get into a position of power, we will assume that you used your sex appeal to get there and not your brains and we will mock you even though we told you the only thing that mattered was your sex appeal. Make yourself accessible to me, but holy shit stop being so desperate and needy. Don’t be a tease. If we want to have sex with you, don’t friendzone us, even though we just fucking told you not to have sex.

-

patriarchy proverb (via stfueverything)

WELL THAT ABOUT SUMS IT UP

(via hilaroar)

You had me. For the millionth time, you had me. I know I said I would never come back, I said I’d never do this again. But here I am, laying in your bed and I can’t remember a thing I’ve ever said.

- Your daily dose of Love Capsules
(via thelovewhisperer)

(Source: yeah-yougotme)